Nowmansland is a free for all across the very top or the pass. Lorries 2 and 3 abreast crawling up and over with the bikes in close attendance, like little pilot fish running the channels. Get to the gate and wait for the guide to meet us from the other side. China is obviously a bureaucratic minefield where personal vehicles are involved but this has all been checked and organised well in advance. The guide appears and shakes hands through the bars. Part one complete. One o’clock, opening time. Ride up to the gate. If your name isn’t down, you’re not coming in. He looks at his list.. his finger goes down… down… nearly at the bottom… and stops. Looks up, and points…into China. I’m in! UK to China is done and I’m in. 
Weird feeling. On trips likes these you bump into all sorts of people on really epic journeys. I met an Aussie the other night in a yurt. He was from Alice Springs of all places. He’s trying to travel back to Aus purely by public transport and he has been all over. All the stans except Afghanistan which he says is possible. He’s even grown a huge beard for it! So… getting to China isn’t such a massive achievement but we all do what we can I guess. I’m very happy to have got here anyway and it’s not on most people’s biking route. Continue reading To the Wall
Category Archives: UK to Bangkok 2014
10 weeks from Uk to Bangkok via Europe, Russia, Kazakhstan, kyrgyzstan, China, Laos and Thailand
Beautiful Kyrgyzstan
Kazakhstan border, I’m expecting it to be easy. Usually it’s easy out and difficult in. Usually. At the Kazakhstan border one of the lights is out on a gantry so even though it’s 10am and everyone is wearing welding masks because it’s so bright, they’ve got to fix it straight away. Now. So they close the border to traffic, reverse a big lorry up, put a ladder on top of the lorry, then throw a rope over the gantry and send a trained monkey up to change the bulb. I’m sweating hard, properly dripping. My boots are overrunning like a bath with the taps on full. Fark. Even the flies are stiting in the shade with their wings up. Its a no fly zone.
This is when its most dangerous. My temper is knocking at my mouth trying to get a word in. Never a good sign. Sign fixed and working, pat tested, inspected, double checked and signed off in triplicate. Open again. This should only take a minute….or so. Lots of people cross on foot at this border. Get in the queue. Everyone is about 2ft tall round here and it feels like I’m wading about up to my waist in people soup. Form a queue at a booth that looks like it’s about to open. Blokey has gone in but nothing is happening. I can see him on the computer inside. 5 mins. 10 mins. I think he doesn’t have a computer at home and he’s checking his mail. 15 mins. Now he’s on twitter. 20 mins.
Across the plains..
Last night I met up with the other riders. They left a week before me and took a different route. Another 5 riders and 1 pillion so not a big group. One more to join us on the China border. Mixture of bikes and riders. I arranged to meet them at the big bridge over the Volga this morning. Get to the bridge and there are traffic lights, it’s being resurfaced. Tits. I go to the front of the queue of buses. My spider sense is tingling telling me somethings not right. I get a tap on the back from a police baton. “Niet”. Bollocks. They’re only letting buses over. I’ve got to go miles up river to the next bridge. I decide to wait for the others on this side so do a quick detour down and under the bridge then turn right past a no entry sign directly into the path of ….. two policemen that have just left the police station I’m now pointing at. Ummmm. Smile to max brightness, fawn mode on, quickly swallow a portion of humble pie and start sucking. They’re obviously not pleased. Russian is bitch when it comes at you thick and fast … and loud … with spit. I have absolutely no clue what the fuck they’re on about. Do I bend over and pull my pants down? Do I go down on my knees, open my mouth and close my eyes? Do I get the special police gimp mask out? What? I pull on the gimp mask. Niet, that doesn’t work. Ok, ok. I bend over. Niet, not that either. I’m trying to explain that I want to wait for my mates in their ‘naughty area’. That at least gets their attention back. I’m trying to wait where they’re pulling people over and beating them to pass the time of day but they’re not having it. Its all getting out of hand so I just ride off before they can bump start a police car and follow. So, I’m off for another day alone on the road.
It’s lovely and sunny and warm and the countryside is flat in all directions. I didn’t think the roads could get any more shit but they do. Very impressive indeed. 200 miles standing up the whole way today, calfs on fire.
Get out of Russia easy peasy and it’s in to Kazakhstan in a flash.
Continue reading Across the plains..
Rush across Russia
Ok. Here we go into mother Russia. I thought I might be more apprehensive. Maybe later. The roads up to borders are often shit and this one is no exception. It looks like your average city pavement covered in chewing gum. Patches on patches on patches. I bought some 2nd hand Ohlins a couple of years ago off a dodgy scouser on eBay. His idea of ‘new’ was ‘new to you’ and these had already been well used. I got them serviced before I set out on this trip. I guess you simply don’t see how good these things really are until you’re riding over Tarmac like this. Keeping all the bumps from my bum. Luuuuuvery. Wouldn’t fancy this road in the winter though. So, out of Latvia in a minute with a ‘good luck’. Rock up to the Russian border and join the queue. 
Well the Russians aren’t rushin that’s for sure. It’s a simple process but it’s not a short one. Especially if you’re behind 3 cars traveling together that comprise 10 nationalities, include several stolen children, a boot full of ivory and a cat with ebola. And thats just the start of it. The motley crew is taking so long to process that I’m moved to a different lane. Stage 1 takes 10 minutes but then I get to customs. There’s me, and there’s this dodgy looking bloke driving a German registered Merc. He’s not German. The woman in the booth has her eyes on stun and Mr Dodge is clearly turning up the heat. The Russian is getting faster and louder by the minute. Continue reading Rush across Russia
Heading far east
Here we go again. Walking the tarmac tightrope and heading for the horizon. Ditching the desk and running for the hills. Ten weeks, two wheels, 10000 miles. A few months ago I opened the door, looked in the stable and thought about what I should throw my saddle over. KTM 990 SMT with a hooligan kit and a very bad temper. R1100S with 170k and looking like a victim of a chainsaw massacre, split into big component parts and sitting on shelves. R1150GSA with 110k and a passport full of stamps. “I need a new bike” I think to myself. As if reading my mind, I hear some soft sobbing from behind me. Turn around and see a small puddle of metal tears under my old GSA. “All right old girl. One more time”. Decision made.
It’s simple plan. Distance: Far. Direction: East. UK to Bangkok. If you’re a fan of turgid, dry, humorless, self indulgent shit then you’ve come to the rigfht place, please enjoy:) Might keep your eyes busy for 30 minutes at least and if you can get through to the end I’ll send you a congratulatory ‘boredom endurance’ certificate for your efforts and to in some way compensate you for wasting your life:)
I do realize what a very very lucky bastard I am to be able to do these kinds of trips. I really do. I’m a very lucky bastard indeed, in fact I’m thinking of changing my name to Mr V V V L Bastard. I hope the following doesn’t appear blasé or dismissive. It’s not intended to be. I live on the edge of fantasy as I find reality hard to deal with in life so the lines between fact and fiction aren’t always obvious.
6:30 Sunday morning up and at ’em. Southampton to Soest. Out to Dover in the grey. Front of the queue with a couple of other bikers. “Where you off to?”, “Luxemborg, you?” “Bangkok”. Silence, of the ‘you taking the piss?’ variety. It’s strange how your mind rationalises things like this. Leave the house, turn left, follow black stuff till Bangkok. Forget about the scary places enroute. It will all be fine, just treat every day as it comes. I’m just happy to be moving, I really don’t care where, just as long as I’m moving.