The road to Mongolia

Kazakhstan

The astounding yaks rose from their slumber at 10am, and ambled into the busy city of Almaty in order to get their fix of food and Wi-Fi. With a visit to a hi-tech gaming facility not providing fast enough Internet access for the masses of uploading the mammals needed to do that day, Globalisation proved to be the saviour – in the form of the reliable WiFi of Burger King.

After around 6 hours in the gourmet restaurant, the yak’s social media presence had finally been adequately bulked up, and they trotted back to the hostel in order to begin the long drive to Russia. In preparation for the trek through the wilderness ahead, Elliott and James stocked up on all the weird and wonderful snacks that Kazakhstan had to offer, with a packet of caviar crisps selected by J-Yak proving to be a particular highlight.

In the early evening, Almaty was finally left in the dust of the yaks, with traffic light after traffic light, and miles and miles of roadworks just beyond the city making initial driving incredibly slow. Strangely enough, about an hour outside Almaty, Catharine zoomed past a huge strip of casinos and hotels in the literal middle of nowhere. With yaks being especially prone to gambling addiction however, they decided not to try their hands at ‘Moolette’ or ‘Blackyak’, and carried on driving into the night on gradually faster roads.

With rapid progress finally being made, Elliott and James decided to pull over and set up their temporary stable behind some trees, just off a small side-road. Exhausted, the intrepid herbivores fell straight to sleep, before waking up to an early alarm and the start of another long day on the monotonous roads of Kazakhstan.

Despite the terribly dull scenery in relation to the glorious feast served up by Kyrgyzstan, the yaks were in a fine mood as they galloped through Kazakhstan, with the empty tarmacked roads providing the perfect platform for Catharine to demonstrate the legendary speed that Suzuki Ignis’ are renowned for. Unfortunately, the yaks seem to have got overly excited, and ended up seriously overheating their poor steed. Fortunately, as they waited by the side of the road to cool the poor beast down, the Danish team- ‘The Yakpack”- stopped by. With Catharine seemingly ready to roll again, the two reunited teams powered on to get as far through Kazakhstan as possible.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Catharine was enduring her first serious issues of the trip, with her fragile engine overheating again immediately. Despite James’ attempts to fix her by hammering holes into the bonnet, it was quickly accepted that a car-hospital would be required. The two cars rolled into a small town around midday, and found an A&E that quickly sorted the issue. It turned out that the troublesome coolant system was leaking incredibly vigorously, so the smashing Kazakh car doctors bypassed the leaking section and got Catharine back to her healthy former state. Despite offering the medics money, the yaks were incredibly generously rejected, and ended up forcing Yik Yak flags and socks on the team of saviours in order to show their profuse gratitude in some way.

Now back on the road, the teams galloped along in search of a giant lake that potentially offered up a delightful spot for lunch. They were not disappointed, with James spotting a small restaurant below the main road floating on the lake. The cars were parked up, and the travellers enjoyed a surprisingly delicious meal of fish in a setting more likely to be found in South-East Asia than the home of Borat. The restaurant had a giant wooden board full of signatures from rally teams that had visited the establishment in previous days. The teams consequently left their own marks, before trotting off to make the most of the afternoon.

Progress was consistently quick, despite the Danes being pulled over by a policeman asking for a ‘gift’, and the little convoy was soon within striking distance of the Russian border just before the sun set. They set up camp near a stunning lake, after successfully pleading with the locals to grant them entry - having been initially refused. A stop at a small supermarket earlier in the day provided the teams with the Kazakhstani essentials of beer and caviar, which, along with ANOTHER feast of sausage pasta, formed the basis of a fantastic night. The camping spot truly was spectacular, and a night filled with shooting stars left the yaks with fond memories of a country that was previously seen as nothing more than a time-consuming obstacle to be crossed before the fun of Mongolia.

The next day, the teams treated themselves to coffee and breakfast before heading off to the border roughly 3 hours away. With the sun beating down on them, Elliott decided it would be a good idea to drive in his Kimono, making the later supermarket shop in a busy city as a rather awkward experience.

Russia

Having survived the odd looks of the locals, the convoy arrived at the border to Russia just after midday, and whizzed through the process within 2 hours. Catharine’s first puncture of the trip and a tenuous insurance process however dragged out the crossing, meaning the Russian border town was not reached until 4pm. After what seemed like hours trying to find a place to eat, a helpful bank attendant directed the group to sample the local cuisine of ‘Subway’, after some dollars had been exchanged for roubles.

Somehow, Wi-Fi managed to ensnare the daredevils in the fast-food establishment for 2 hours, leaving the convoy with a long night-drive ahead in order to reach the city of Barnaul, which signalled the point at which the road turned back South and towards Mongolia. With low speed limits, dark conditions and notorious police checks, the cars gradually trundled their way north, arriving in the city at around midnight. A fruitless search for a hostel led the lolloping legends to instead get their Wi-Fi and food fix from a steak-serving restaurant, and set up camp half an hour outside the city near a lake.

Exhausted after the incredibly long drive the day before, the yaks & co arose at a leisurely 10am to be greeted by a herd of Russian cows trundling towards the camp. After the initial shock of being in the middle of a stampede, the group cooked some food and headed off to the rather delightfully sandy river for a much-needed wash. Recuperation however came with a heavy price, and it was not until 1pm that the convoy finally headed off again, with a long drive south to Mongolia beckoning them.

The day continued slowly, with a ‘gift’ of a huge bag of live writhing crayfish from some Russians in a petrol station delaying the progress of the usually speedy yaks. With the station attendants refusing the offer of a free seafood dinner, the smelly shellfish were unfortunately left in the bin as the yaks pulled away, a tear in their eye and the thought that they had perhaps nearly become unwitting crayfish smugglers. A stop in a city for a much-needed lunch further limited the day’s progress, with Wi-Fi and fried chicken turning a quick meal into a 2-hour feast.

Once on the road again and making good progress, the convoy raced along a stunning road through the Altai Mountains in Siberia. Giant trees loomed in a forest around the cars as they sped through the beautiful landscape, with an abundance of camping sites littered along the river offering up some ideal locations to stay for the night. Unfortunately, the border to the land of Genghis lay what seemed like an ever-increasing distance away, and the group surged on, deep into the night. After avoiding a near crash with a phantom horse and a swarm of huge moths, the exceptional explorers finally made it to within striking distance of the border, and proceeded to set up camp at around 2am on a freezing cold plain, around 2000m above sea level.

The next morning the teams awoke early at 7:30am, and were quickly on the road again by 8am in order to make it to the border for the 9am opening. With rumours of a very troublesome crossing ahead, Elliott and James were delighted to make rapid progress and surge into the great plains of the Khanate of Mongolia – a land 2 time zones ahead of the Russian landmass they had travelled only 30km from.

With the Yaks now finally in their homeland, accompanied by a group of Dashing Danes, the final few days of their homage were sure to be eventful. All will be revealed in the final blog post of this epic series.