Endeavour arrived into Altay around 3pm and to our relief we immediately saw a sign pointing to a “Mongol Rally Garage”. Of course we went straight there and were greeted by a few other teams from the Mongol Rally, all of whom were fixing problems that were minor in comparison to our catastrophe. Before we were even out of the ambulance a mechanic already had his head underneath and with a small amount of miming from Ian it was pretty clear that the mechanic knew exactly what we wanted – send the damned air suspension into oblivion and weld on some deliciously cushy springs. Presumably they had seen this exact same problem many times before as they were advancing very swiftly with the removal of the air springs and tank.

Feeling particularly un-needed by the mechanics we set out to look at what Altay had to offer. it is fairly large town by Mongolian standards, housing probably a few thousand at a push. A few small convenience stores provided us with provisions! Meanwhile back at the garage the mechanics were welding custom spring shocks. No measuring device was used and four almost identical shocks were built and fitted to the rear in about four hours. This allowed us to drive out of Altay and find a suitable camping spot.

The 20 minute drive out of Altay was like riding a cloud, compared to the headache inducing bumpiness the morning gave us, all the way to campsite on top of a rather large hill. That night we were provided with our best views of the stars yet which were completely mind blowing.

The first fix was using a sleeping Matt repair kit with various types of glue to fix the tear in the air suspension. This worked for a minute before we heard hissing again. Plan B involved disconnecting the broken air suspension to use just one on the left side using a piece of rubber tubing to connect the air tubes using zip ties. This also lasted a few minutes before it burst. Apparently zip ties were not strong enough for the air pressure. The next plan was using the T-junction from the broken suspension with a bolt blocking the extra hole to fill the surviving air suspension with air. This worked for a few minutes and we actually got the wheel back on, until the bolt violently shot out. Undeterred we went to Plan D and put the same bolt back in again, this time with MORE GLUE! This allowed for full suspension on the right side and half suspension on the left, more than enough for endeavor to limp onwards.

A few kilometers later a rather violent bump knocked the air compressor off from the middle of the ambulance, smashing off the air hoses, ruining all of the rear air suspension. With no available tools to fix the problem, we were forced to soldier on at roughly 20 km/h with about 10cm of clearance. This resulted in a slow bumpy ride, with every little bump in the track throwing people in the rear seats into the air. The hard journey was made easier by constantly watching torrential downpours either side of the ambulance as we tried to crawl away from the impending rain. If you can’t remember, by putting the spare tyres on the rood rendered the roof to leak water into the ambulance, making it no longer waterproof inside.

We played cat and mouse with the rain for the rest of the day until half 8 when we stopped for the day to camp. We had been driving away from a massive cloud of rain for the last hour and at our slow pace could not out drive it. Neil instantly bolted to the top of the ambulance as we stopped in order to start waterproofing the roof by using hot glue and a blow-torch, before the rain got over us. Amazingly the rain was not as bad as we thought and the glue worked well. The only issue was the intense wind that constantly threatened to blow away our cinch tents.

After quick tent pegging and food cooking, we sat down in the Gobi Desert to watch the amazing light display of distant lightning storms before going to bed.

A few hours later we refilled on diesel, food and sleeping bags in Olgiy and decided to get some miles behind us. Unfortunately, 20 minutes outside the town we had to pull over, as Adventure had a little problem. Surprise, surprise. This time it seemed like the differential might have gone, making it a little more serious than any of the previous problems, so it was with heavy hearts that we towed it back to a garage. They confirmed our assessment of the problem, but said there were no parts anywhere nearer than UlaanBaatar, and they couldn’t fix it. We were going to have to leave Adventure behind.

We started sorting out what we could fit into one ambulance, bearing in mind that we now needed to get all 7 people in as well, and bought a local SIM card to call ahead and find out the procedure. We were not keen on scrapping the ambulance, and neither were GoHelp, but towing it 1800 km on gravel roads was not an option, and we couldn’t afford the weeks wait it would take to get a new part. The only way around it seemed to be leaving it to be collected later. After some persuasion that we needed an answer today as we needed to be on our way, we were told that they had contact with a man who runs a children’s place in the town. We got a local to give him directions over the phone, and it turned out she was related to him. We ended up leaving Adventure in her yard and heading off for the first time all in one vehicle.

We got a bit further than we had when we broke down, and had to stop for the night as it was getting dark. So far, very little progress through Mongolia, but a lot of drama…

30 minutes into our Journey we were stopped by a friendly local on a motorbike, who was brave enough to let Ian have his first ever go on a motorbike! He led us back to his Ger and house and insisted upon us joining him for dinner and even offering us and the St Andrews team a place to sleep. After much tea and a delicious Pasta and Yak meal, we started on the fermented horse milk before heading on to the vodka and beer. They also introduced us to the local custom of not leaving the table unless your drink was finished, leading Matt to quickly down a bowl of vodka before he was allowed to leave!

After many drinks and exchanging local music tastes (we went for Wonderwall, a classic!) we slept pretty well!

En-route we stopped off at a local garage to get the front left tyres nuts loosened as our Uzbek mechanics tightened them to an extreme extent with a 2 metre long lever. That’s when we realised we were momentarily back in a western-style society, as a 10 minute job to loosen some wheel nuts cost us $20!

From leaving at 6:30am in the morning, we arrived at the border area at roughly 4pm. We jumped out the ambulances at the Russian border expecting there to be at least a few issues, however we were once again pleasantly surprised. The only problem was the fact that the border coming into Russia didn’t give as a customs declaration form, which the leaving border wanted. After a few worried moments we found out that the Kazakhstan customs declaration was just as good. Then a brief search of the ambulances, with a guard telling us which of our Russian vodkas were good/bad, we drove the 20km no-mans land road to the Mongolian border.

We were greeted by some Mongolia Rally teams in the passport control area and we got through quickly, however we soon realised the vehicles will take much longer as we are now importing them into Mongolia. We spent roughly 2 hours at the border trying to do the forms until a guard told us to drive the ambulances to a “holding pen” and wait until tomorrow morning to finish the forms.

As we waited the St. Andrews team arrived and not shortly after the Drift Kings arrived to the team’s amazement, as we feared we would not bump into them again after Turkmenistan. For the first time Mongol Charity team members outnumbered “The Adventurists” (Mongolian Rally) teams. We all then settled down to a night of eating and drinking at the border.

Some of the local children came to say ‘Hi’, casually climbing over the border fence for a game of football. The English toys we gave them seemed to go down a treat! Most of the team stole into Mongolia to the nearby village and found someone’s house that doubled as a shop to get some more supplies and change up some dollars into Mongolian Tugrug. We exchanged $170 for over 200,000 Tugrugs with the majority being 500 Tugrug notes, the wad of cash made us feel rather rich.

We managed to find a car parts shop to find a new alternator. Although they didn’t have any spares, the owner spoke pretty good English, and with the help of an iPad, directed us to a street of car mechanics. We arrived at the street to find ourselves spoiled for choice, with around 20 garages all competing for a look in at some of our Rubles. The first garage we tried turned out to be a specialist alternator/starter motor repair centre and quickly had our alternator in bits. 2 hours later with our wallets a little lighter, we were back with two alternators. It was just a shame that the Azerbaijani mechanics neglected to give all the parts back from our starter motor during our abortive attempt to fix it there.

We also met some lovely Russian ladies who took a liking to Berry and Greg who were guarding our ambulances, informing them that they “did not like Russian boys” and provided them with gifts of tea and ice cream. The rest of the team didn’t hear them complaining about the attention!

Bump-starting one ambulance seemed like a holiday in comparison, and we decided to make some headway towards the Mongolian border. After a few hours of driving we came across a secluded spot to camp and, surrounded by forest, we had our first camp fire of the trip. This was very welcome in the colder weather that has greeted us in Russia.

Upon leaving we saw a building for insurance and thought it would probably be best to get some. After some confusing conversations with men that spoke no English and couldn’t understand why we were doing such a rally, we got insurance for 15 days for both the vehicles for $150 before setting off in Russia at roughly 4pm.

Adventure was up to its old tricks, with the battery not being charged due to the alternator being broken and the passenger side drive shaft vibrating the ambulance whenever there is any acceleration.

After pulling over for the night we switched the ambulances’ batteries around, giving Adventure a fully charged battery that should last a few days. In the mean time Endeavor will spend all of tomorrow charging Adventure’s flat battery. Due to this alternator problem, both ambulances now have to be bump-started whenever the engine is switched off, a source of much amusement to locals after we have just explained that we are traveling to Mongolia.

There was a massive golden globe held up by curved pillars, that is shown on all the notes of Kazakhstan currency. We then strolled along the amazingly straight plaza area, passing beautiful rows of coloured flowers, interesting little figures of the city and sophisticated fountains that we cooled our filthy feet in. Further along we got to the parliament building and needless to say it put our own to shame. All the while we were pretty much the only people there, which only added to the grandeur of the monuments.

A five minute drive further on we reached the “Turka”, a massive glass tent that has lots of expensive shops and, on the top floor, a swimming pool. The initial plan of going swimming disappeared when we discovered it cost over
$50 dollars each and so we settled for some “Pizza Supreme” instead.

At around 2ish we set off towards Pavlodar. The long days drive was only punctuated when the “STOP” light and battery light came on one of the ambulances. You can guess which of the ambulances had the problem. That’s right, Adventure. We ascertained that the alternator had given up life stopping the battery from charging. Not such a big issue except that you get fined by police if your lights aren’t on. The solution was to have Endeavor drive in front to warn of police hiding in bushes, a tactic that seemed to get us through the day without trouble.

Unable to fix the issue at the roadside, we waited until camping at 8pm to try and fix it whilst half the group started on dinner. We’d heard that horse meat was a popular Kazakh delicacy, and where better to try it than its home… so we feasted on an exciting concoction of horse meat and white peppers, which turned out to be pretty delicious!

Once we regrouped back at the ambulances, we repacked, sorted out the water and stale bread and began our trip to the Uzbekistan border. As we set off from the lay-by we’d parked in we had fun bump-starting Endeavour on a sand dune with only a foot of space.

We split with the other teams, intending to set a faster pace through to the border although faster turned out to be relative, with the road quality varying constantly along the 300km journey. Some regions we managed to get up to 50mph, but we averaged around 20-30mph on the poor condition roads. The view in the desert was of a barren sandy landscape, with no visible human presence, with the exception of the ‘road’.

We arrived at the Uzbek border crossing shortly before it closed for the evening and instantly made friends with the military guards on the Turkmenistan side. After a few forms and some conversations about the Olympics, football and Neil’s dreadlocks (a recurring theme it seems), we got through to no-mans land. The Uzbekistan border was even quicker, with the guards rushing us through our forms as they hurried to go home, a quick glance into the ambulances and we were told it was all good. THe guards didn’t understand road tax or insurance, we we went on our way without spending any extra dollar, a pretty big win for the unexpected $400 at the Turkmen entry border.

With light fading fast, we found a nice spot next to the main road, which by British standards is an empty country lane, cooked our usual and delicious pasta, sauce and tuna meal and got to bed nice and early.

Heading out of town turned out to be a good decision and we eventually stumbled upon what appeared to be car city, with almost every shop dedicated to car parts or garages. Two hours and a fair amount of miming later we walked away with four new fan belts and two newly-repaired tyres, with only the lack of a starter motor troubling us now.

We returned to our Ashgabat car park feeling pretty pleased with ourselves to find that our new rally friends had also had an eventful morning. Ashgabat is an incredible city, within the government controlled inner city every structure is coated in bright white marble and gilded edges around doors and windows. Unfortunately, despite its beauty, the Turkmen government decided that no photos are allowed to be taken in the capital, and with a policeman literally on every corner, its not a law that is particular easy to flout. The Drift Kings and Warren Point however decided that the city was too incredible not to photograph…. and were promptly arrested outside the presidential palace. After demanding $500 for their release and keeping them for a couple of hours, the police deleted their photos and released them free of charge – although it turned out harmless it was an alarming reminder of the paranoia and heavy-handed policies of the Turkmen government.

With all the teams now present and ready to leave, we were on track to reach one of the most exciting sights of our trip: the burning gas craters in the garagoom desert. This is not your typical tourist attraction. More than forty years ago, the USSR was drilling for oil and gas in the desert when one of their rigs collapsed, opening up a 100m wide sink-hole and released tonnes of natural gas into the atmosphere. Hoping to burn off the excess gas, some bright Russian spark decided to throw a match… and it has been on fire ever since. We arrived at an unmarked lay-by already populated with other Mongol Rally teams, and for the distinct feeling that the Turkmen government is not particular proud of the craters, with only a tiny dirt track over 7km of sand dune and desert and no sight to indicate its presence.

Fortunately for us Warren Point’s four wheel drive Mitsubishi Shogun was more than a match for the desert track and two hours later all twelve members of the group, some walking and some driven, had arrived at the large fire crater.

It is impossible to describe in words, or even with pictures, the fiery crater known as the ‘Gates of Hell’. Its glow can be seen on the desert horizon for miles around, but as your approach the view changes to something not of this world; with the wispy orange flow of the smoke rising slowly from the crater and the intense heat that greets you as you near, you could be on Venus, or Mercury. The flames themselves emerge from a hundred different places and the lack of barriers or health and safety only increased the feeling that we were experiencing something truly unique.

After spending a few hours taking in the sheer beauty of the crater, we camped nearby with a couple of other teams ready to hit the Uzbek border the next day.