London to Mongolia in a rubbish 1989 Nissan Micra

We were glad to get up early and crack on, between Chelyabinsk and Kyrgan is the ugliest we had seen so far, but in this country of extreme contrasts beauty is never far away.

We hit the road east and were meant to turn north on the E30 about 16 miles before the Kazak border. When the road turned into a queue of cars and Russian border guards, we guessed we may have gone to far. We'll go back then.

We found the E30 which for a Russian B road was suprisngly good for the first 100kms, smooth and thoroughly indescribable views. The scenery is some of the best I have ever seen in my life. Simply breathtaking. The siberian lowlands consists of endless wide open expanses, lake and forests, with the visibility you could see for 20 miles or more. We got our first real sense of being utterly isolated. If Dave gave up the ghost we were in the middle of nowhere with no plan B. When we stopped you could hear nothing except the sound of crickets as the backdrop to the vast expanse.

The roads soon became crap. We hit a bit where they were laying new road and had to drive for 3kms or so on deep rubble. Other cars had grounded and come to a halt and were being pulled out by a Kamaz truck, I kept Dave in 1st and kept the wheels moving and he just plodded along trhough it with the occasional bottom scraping. We pulled over to give Dave a drink and this Petrol pump attendant was asking us for any English coin as he collects them. He was delighted with the addition of a £1 coin.

Moving onto now rubbish roads, we needed to find something to eat, which has become a real problem, there simply is nothing except service sations with maybe crisps and chocolate every 100kms. We found some rough looking truckers joint abour 120miles from Omsk, with the most vile hole in the floor toilet either of us had ever seen. We ended up ordering beef macaroni, we actually had no idea what we were ordering and went for the pot luck approach. We were joined by some completely drunk old woman who kept showing us a picture of some bloke, maybe her lost son or husband. She could hardly walk due to her alcoholic exploits. She sat down beside me and as I had left some of this rough meal, she gestured to eat it. We obliged and she was eating the remains of the tasteless fare as some bloke came along who new her to take her away. It was desparing for us both to see such a place and the hopelessness of this person.

Rich took control and we pushed on for the final fling. Just outside Omsk we got our second routine pull over at a police checkpoint, not bad as we've been through about 50 and other teams have been pulled loads. The policeman took one look at the car and then preceeded to draw directions on the bonnet. We asked for a picture and he obiged.

With another hour time change (now +6 from UK) we hit Omsk at 10pm and found a really nice Hotel, The Maritime on the River. Omsk is another city of contrast, crap and industrial on the edges which hides a bustling and architectually cool centre. Tonight we enjoy the semi luxury of a travel lodge style accomodation and a few well earned beers. Sometime tomorrow we start the march across Siberia, initially towards the largest city, Novosibersk and onto either Tomsk or Kemerovo where we plan a well earned day off. Today we covered 476 miles.

Our best laid plans to awake and crack on at 8am were fading with each glass of red. We all awoke around 10am and joined the M5 in convoy bound for, we hoped, Chelyabinsk.

After 10 minutes the Scraz lads decided to overtake a slow moving vehicle and cross a no overtaking solid white line. The road was clear but at the top of the hill the lads got pulled in by the old bill and cleared of about 30 quid. We drove past laughing.

After an hour of the daily dose of how not to drive, we started to hit the foothills of the Urals. Beautiful Scenery tempered with mans destruction of it. Both Rich and I were in one of the high periods. Its incredible the amount of frequent highs and lows you get doing something like this. Sun sining through the window, music blaring, windows open (except when passing one of the millions of Kamaz trucks with the black smoke blowing straight into Dave) life is great for now.

Having crossed over the Urals from European Russia into Asian Russia, Rich's favourite scenery so far we felt a sense of huge sense of achievement

Rich our Nav expert decided on a re-routing that looked sensible, rather than continuing on the M5 with heads due and north and slightly west (back on ourselves) to Yekaterinburg, we opted to go on the M51 which looked like it went through Chelyabinsk as one road. It didn't.

Soon we we were lost and going back and forth trying to find the M51 to Kyrgan. We spent an hour going back and forth more in hope than purpose.

Chelyabinsk I am told is the most poluted place on earth and has suffered nuclear accidents. It is without doubt the most grim place I have ever seen and I've seen loads. There is nothing to endear you to it. Everthings shabby, dusty, run down and with loads of billowing industrial chimneys, we both took pity on the poor souls who have to call this place home.

We were glad to find the exit onto the 51 and leave this place forlorn behind. We hit the road bound Kyrgan and very shortly realised we had had hardly any Russian roubles. You cannot find things such as cashpoints outside major towns and cities. The Scraz lads, having not got lost in the city were ahead and told us they had stopped at a certain Motel. We didn't realise it was a motel as we drove past it, by the time they had texted us and we knew we were 35 miles down the road. Never mind another one will show up soon.

Having been caught in this situation in Lituania, we were again at the stage when it had gone dark, we were desperate to stop and we couldn't find anything, added to this we had only 1300 roubles about £22, we were stuck. When the road ran out and turned into the worst pot holed mess we had experienced thus far we thought it couldn't get much worse, it stated lashing down. We couldn't buy food for fear of not being able to afford a room and hadn't eaten since the morning. We drove till about 1.30 am and eventually found some truckers motel, complete with an array of resident mosquitoes, but for just 600 roubles £11 we were grateful and could afford a truckers meal of chicken and mash potatoe and more importantly change a few dollars. We had done 472 miles

After our last blog and painfully slow conection speed, we left Samara at around 2.30pm trying to catch up with Team Scraz and to camp with them.

Leaving Samara I was driving and we saw at least 5 crashes on the 8 miles out of the city. The roads are 2 at best 3 lanes in places but nobody pays any attention to this. It's more like a formula 1 race where everyone is josttling into any slight gap to overtake any which way.

We started to see the first signs of the multi billion pound oil industry. Fields of oil pumping machinery in the undulating scenery compensated slightly for the horrendous driving. I even started driving like one. Up a hill with a slow moving heavy vehicle in front, I decided sod this and went on to the dirt track beside the road and bombed up the inside. If you can't beat em. We caught up with team Scraz in a mosquito ridden field a few KM's shy of UFA. We covered 272 miles.

We awoke in the glorious sunshine of Samara to find our talking Duck Ed, missing off his perch in the front of Dave. Ed was given to us by Rich's lady Jana, to be given to a Mongolian child if we make Ulan Bataar. Ed had other ideas, after a bit of frantic searching we found him down on the beach trying to pull some other birds of the non feathered variety. He was dragged by his beak kicking and screaming and after getting his wings clipped is back on his perch, once more bound for his new home in Mongolia.