We made it to Sydney!

Sorry for the lack of updates to our blog. Since leaving Brisbane our itinerary has been extremely hectic to say the least. The good news is we made it to Sydney.

To get here we have travelled for eight months; drove through twenty countries; covered a distance of 25,000 km and sustained our first puncture (luckily the NRMA fixed it for us).

Chrissy’s home in South Australia and the final chapter of Driving Chrissy Home lies ahead of us. As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end and in the next few weeks we hope to complete our challenge. Beyond Chrissy’s home is an appointment with the Nullabor Plain and Fremantle Docks (south of Perth) where we intend to ship Miranda back to England.

We will update you with more details of our journey in Oz in the near future.

We made it to Australia & we have the van back!

We arrived in Australia last week and we've been busily trying to clear Miranda after she arrived on Thursday. We were told that the process of clearing a vehicle without a broker would be very complicated. After deciding to give it a go ourselves we found that the rigmarole certainly lived up to its reputation. However, we are very excited and happy to say that we now have Miranda back in our possession.

After spending the morning at the Quarantine Approved Premises we spent the rest of the day registering and insuring Miranda. Driving away at the end of the day and making our way onto Australian roads towards Brisbane felt surreal. To put it into perspective, I guess the experience made us feel like B. A. Baracus from the A-Team after he had been drugged, taken onboard a plane and woken up in a foreign country.

I owe a huge amount of thanks to One Dollar; Double Zero, Chrissy and everyone at Blackhawk garage for helping me to clean and prepare Miranda so thoroughly in preparation for Australian Customs. Without which the process today would not have been so straight forward, so thank you very much.

Part two of our journey will start tomorrow. Wayyyhay hay!

Mission accomplished: Overland from London to Singapore

Trains: The overnight train journey from Port Klang to Singapore.
Packing Miranda into a container destined for Australia felt like a great achievement. However, we where still a stone throw away from Singapore and the thought of not reaching our intended destination by car felt disappointing. Therefore we thought that it was only fitting that we should attempt to travel overland to Singapore to complete our original aim of driving from London to Singapore. Unfortunately it soon became clear that this idea was going to be a lot more difficult than we first expected. Firstly, we no longer had Miranda and secondly there was no accessible public transport in Port Klang to take us to the train station, from where we had been told that we could travel to Kuala Lumpur in order to catch an overnight train to Singapore.

Yet again, the Malaysia hospitality came to our rescue in the form of One Dollar offering to drop us off at the Klang train station. Offering a lift to someone with a cervical spinal cord injury isn’t that straight forward. Being paralysed with the type of legion that I have sustained has many restrictions. One such restriction is not having the control of the relevant muscles that would ordinarily enable me to independently transfer from my wheelchair and into a normal seat. If someone offered to lift me into the vehicle seat they would find the task very difficult because my body below the level of my spinal cord injury behaves just like deadweight. Consequently, rather than contemplating the previous two options, I find that it is infinitely easier to travel in my purposely built wheelchair. As a result of these extra challenges One Dollar came up with a plan, which we gratefully accepted. Moments later I was hoisted into the back of one of One Dollar’s friend’s pickups by a team of willing hands. Chrissy and One Dollar’s friend squeezed in either side of me and managed to hold my wheelchair down as we ambled towards the station. This isn’t the first time that I have travelled in the back of a pickup however this short journey made me think that if I could never drive again, I would definitely choose to ride in the back of a pickup whenever possible. For what reason? Because it is damn good fun!

Having said our farewells to our new found friends we wheeled on to a perfectly accessible train headed for Kuala Lumpur. I had not expected our journey to be this straight forward, which made me think to myself, ‘Wow, this is easy’. This thought only amplified when we arrived in KL Sentral train station and the lady who sold us our tickets convinced us that our overnight carriage on the Singapore bound train would be completely accessible. With our minds set at ease, we waited for five hours amongst a small crowd in an air-conditioned departure lounge until an announcement was finally made at 11pm informing us to descend one level to catch our train. As we came out of the lift the relentless humidity hit us like a wet towel. In a blink of an eye the other passengers scurried into their carriages faster than rats leaving a sinking ship, which left us in a dimly lit, empty platform with an endless line of carriages laid out in front of us. We were then confronted with the task of trying to find our ‘accessible carriage’. I felt like I had been pushing my wheelchair for miles when I looked up to see Chrissy racing ahead of me with a trolley full of luggage.

All of a sudden a strange feeling of panic came over me. It is the feeling of panic that will only occur when scrambling to catch a train on a desolate platform. A thousand thoughts and senses seem to flash through your mind all at once. At the outset you think that the doors will slam shut at any moment and the train will pull away leaving you standing on your own and feeling like a substitute who was never picked for the B team let alone the A team. At the same time you sense that the passengers who have seated themselves comfortably are getting an enormous amount of satisfaction from watching you helplessly race towards the carriage in the hope of seeing the doors slam automatically in your face. You can almost hear them saying excitedly, ‘He’s not going to make it. He’s not going to make it’. If you do manage to jump aboard you can often catch the look of disappointment on their faces. That’s if you are quick enough. Finally, you foresee that if you do miss the train you’ll be left feeling totally exasperated that all of the effort you had gone to, to catch the damn train in the first place had been totally wasted.

Thankfully we didn’t experience this level of disappointment from missing the train that night but moments after Chrissy reached our carriage she realised that the corridors leading to our accessible cabin would be barely wide enough for a prop-forward let alone anyone in a wheelchair to fit through. By the time I arrived it was clear that our accessible carriage was accessible – to everyone apart from someone in a wheelchair. Our saving grace was a) having been on the road for six months, which had taught us to adapt to every situation and b) having gained the assistance from a very willing Conductor called Zaid. Within minutes of inspecting the train it was clear that there was no way I could get on it by sitting in my wheelchair. Instead of losing our sense of humour we decided that missing the train all together would be a proverbial pain in the backside and that there would have to be a solution to the problem. Our only option was to set up one of the bunks in the cabin and to get Zaid and Chrissy to carry me under the arms and legs a hundred yards up the narrow corridor, from where they could squeeze through the narrow doorway, throwing me onto the bottom bunk bed. I would then have no choice but to stay in this bed until the following morning. The only option for my in-collapsible wheelchair, would be to leave it overnight in just inside the slightly wider train carriage entrance, until I had to be carried off to Singapore the following morning. Simple?

The plan worked well really well apart from when I was lifted; my elbows acted as a handbrake as they jammed into the narrow walls on either side; my lucky charm given to me in Iran slipped out of my pocket as my trousers started to fall down and when I was laid out in the bunk it was clear that whoever had designed this carriage must have considered that the bunks would only be frequented by dwarfs, young children and descendents of Chrissy. This meant that I had to spend the night with my legs bent at the knees. I soon found that as the train rocked from one side to side another I had to prevent myself from being launched out of bed by wedging my elbows into the mattress on both sides of my body. Added to this, the uncontrollable air-conditioning on the train was blasting directly at our bunks. All in all the experience was like trying to fall asleep whilst lying on a tight-rope during gale force Antarctic winds. Unable to sleep in our sub-zero compartment I wondered whilst watching the room rock from left to right whether the Chief Engineer had decided to handle the more sophisticated plans and delegate the design of the cabin onto a sadistic employee set on sabotaging his bosses reputation, because at that time it certainly felt like it.

The train journey did reveal something to us and that was that Zaid was quite a character. Standing on the platform before we got on the train he said in a thick Indian accent, ‘I tell you, if you’re needing anything, you just ask me’. Maybe it should have been me saying that to him, because after he had helped Chrissy lob me into my bunk he spotted our unread limited edition National Geographic that we had just spent six dollars on and said, ‘I’ll be just taking that as a souvenir and I’ll read it tonight’. Luckily for Zaid he had such a charismatic full toothed grin that he could probably get away with asking the Queen if he could borrow her private toilet or even wear her dressing gown. Even so, we had to deny him his request.

It turned out that he had the same reading interests as we did. After this he went on to tell us how he had worked on the train for nearly twenty years and had met all types of people. Before Zaid bid us good night he came out with an interesting comment. He said, ‘My Uncle and Auntie is Christian. My sister-in-law is Chinese and I speak Chinese fluently. My sister is Hindu and I’m married to an Indian Muslim. And I can tell you, its not religion that creates war but the hearts of people. For centuries religion has been used by bad people to control people’. After divulging his thoughts he promised he would be there at 6am in the morning to help us.

Sure enough the next morning Zaid was standing at our door with his reading glasses parked on his forehead and wearing his trade mark grin and bright blue uniform. He said that when we got to the Malay/Singapore border I should stay where I was and that the Malaysian officials would be much more laidback than the Singapore border guards. He was right. Standing in the doorway of our cabin the Malaysian officials stamped my passport without any problems. However, on the Singapore side of the border everyone was ordered to leave the train whilst sniffer-dogs rampaged through the cabins. After everyone’s passports had been checked the crowd was finally allowed to board for the final thirty minute section of the train ride. Luckily for us, Zaid did some sweet talking on the Singapore side, which enabled me to stay where I was.

When we arrived at 7am in Singapore both Chrissy and I felt knackered from our sleepless journey. The ultimate part of our journey was being lifted out of the carriage and as we emerged both my glasses and Chrissy’s camera steamed up from the humidity. Although it had been a challenge, the moment I touched down in my wheelchair certainly made us feel like we had reached a final destination on one section of our long overland journey.

Planes: Singapore to Bali in a jetplane

Our journey to Singapore was intended to kill two birds with one stone. Firstly, it was our final intended destination on our first overland journey and secondly it was the place where I could get my Baclofen pump refilled. In short, Intrathecal Baclofen Therapy prevents severe muscle spasms that can occur as a result of a spinal cord injury. It works like this. A subcutaneous pump the size of an ice hockey puck that sits on my abdomen continually delivers a drug called Baclofen into my spinal cord fluid. Without this type of therapy my muscle spasms would be so severe that they would prevent me from being able to sit on a showerchair without spasming off it and the thought of driving would be to contemplate the impossible. As you can probably guess this type of therapy is extremely beneficial. The only problem is that the Baclofen pump needs topping up with Baclofen three times per year.

The pump is designed and produced by a company called Medtronic and during a refill we were lucky to meet the friendly sales manager for the Baclofen pump. His name was Justin and being a coffee fanatic he very kindly shouted us coffee on two separate occasions. Later he and his girlfriend (Kylie) took us out to dinner in downtown Singapore, where – coinciding with the Chinese New Year holiday - they introduced us to a Chinese salad only eaten during this special occasion Before you eat it you all have to toss the salad with chopsticks as high as you can while simultaneously performing many good luck wishes (for the coming year) e.g “I wish you happiness everyday, good health and to winning the lottery” Apart from being good fun it also tasted delicious too.

It was great getting to know both Justin and Kylie and learning about life in Singapore. According to Justin, one of the best things he likes about Singapore is the fact that he feels safe nearly everywhere that he goes. During the few short days I began to understand what he meant. Whilst we were in Singapore we mainly used the MRT (Tube) to get around, which turned out to be very accessible and convenient. On the night we returned from having dinner with Justin we just managed to catch the final train for the night. Throughout our journey back to the YHA that night, even in the darkest lanes, there wasn’t one moment when Chrissy and I felt unsafe. It was a comforting feeling especially when I compared this experience to times spent in other cities around the world.

Indecently, when we were planning this trip we had originally hoped to have enough time and funds to enact our dream plan of island hopping all the way from Singapore to East Timor, from where we hoped to ship Miranda to Darwin. It later became apparent - after numerous mechanical breakdowns, that the funds and time necessary to do this were diminishing and that this idea wasn’t meant to be. On a separate note, whilst we were in Malaysia we calculated that it would be more cost effective for us to stay in Bali rather than spend two weeks in Brisbane waiting for Miranda to arrive. So this hop, skip and jump approach of getting from Singapore to Australia was an unexpected opportunity to explore a part of Indonesia we had hoped to visit. This sounded like a privilege to us.

Flying to Australia via Bali seems like an easy option, however air-travel has to be the hardest part of travelling anywhere for me. I would have much rather driven the rest of the way – if it weren’t for the annoying part that Australia is an island and there is so much water in the way. Airline travel is generally an undignified experience too. Airport staff (some) think I am unable to answer a question purely because I am in a wheelchair. As a result they generally direct their questions to the one person standing next to me, which is probably one of Chrissy’s (only) pet hates. Once they’ve realised I can actually speak we are generally left until last before we board the aircraft, so that everyone can watch my trousers falling down as I’m bundled into my seat. What’s more I am prone to acquiring pressures sores on my buttocks. To prevent this happening I have to sit on my silicon gel cushion, which boosts my height, so that my head towers above the top of the seat and the other passengers. It is also a perfect position for the head rest to dig into my back. There is nothing like standing out like a sore thumb. Finally, if we land without my head crashing into the seat in front of me (because I don’t have the trunk muscles necessary to hold myself up while the planes brakes are being slammed on) we then have to wait until everyone has gotten off before I am manhandled from the plane seat, down a staircase (with limbs splaying in all directions) and finally into the safety and freedom of my wheelchair.

Automobiles: Our transfer from Bali International airport to Ubud

Unfortunately our flight to Bali went pretty much as predicted, but it kicked off well because we were seen off in style with a guest appearance from Justin. Prior to flying out to Bali we had pre-arranged a wheelchair accessible vehicle to take us out to our accommodation in Ubud. As you can see from the picture, it probably doesn’t meet everyone’s standards of accessibility but luckily I could I just about fit in it. The transport here is somewhat TIGHT!

Over and out.

A dedication to Chrissy and to everything she does

Yet again Chrissy has worked tirelessly to clean the world’s dust that has accumulated in our van and on our belongings. Thank you for that and for unpacking, itemising and repacking everything in the van in preparation for the next section of our journey. Thank you very much Chrissy(This time you are infront of the camera).

The long wait in Vientiane (27th October to 30th December)

As you are probably aware we have been in Vientiane from the 27th October with a set of mechanical problems that Chrissy described in her earlier blog (28th November). Having spent two months in Vientiane we will finally be ready to leave on the 31st December.

Despite the frustrations of being two months behind schedule; missing a rendezvous with Chrissy’s family for Christmas; ordering and waiting for spare parts from the UK we have filled our time well. Here are a few examples of what we did and of some of the things we leant:

Unexploded Ordnance (UXO) – The huge problem
Unbeknownst to me, during the Vietnam War the Americans strategically planned to cut off the Vietnamese supply/exit/entry routes through Laos and box them into their own country. In 1964 they set about putting this plan into action by carpet bombing the Laos/Vietnam border and they did so with formidable results. By 1973 they had flown over half a million bombing raids and dropped two million tons of explosive ordnance giving Laos the title of, ‘Per capita the most heavily bombed nation in the world’.

The legacy this plan has left in its wake is devastating. The Americans estimated that 30% of the bombs dropped did not explode. However, one source we spoke to at the International Cluster Munitions Conference suggested that figure was much higher because the bombs were often cushioned by vegetation on steep sided mountains as they fell and didn’t explode. These booby traps are now covered in soil and vegetation and mutilate or kill people in rural areas. I imagine this problem will only amplify as an increasing population occupies undisturbed land in the quest to produce a livelihood.

According to Lao National Unexploded Ordnance Program (UXO Lao) they have destroyed nearly 500,000 sub munitions since 1996 to 2010. However, this equates to only having dealt with 0.55% of the problem, which puts it into perspective how big a problem this is.

Cooperative Orthotic and Prosthetic Enterprise or COPE – Brings it home.
We learnt more about the UXO problem when we visited COPE and their fantastic awareness raising exhibition. The exhibit quite literally brings home the effects of UXO’s like a bomb (no pun intended).

The first thing you walk past in the exhibition is a life-sized model of an extremely nasty Cluster Bomb in mid-fall. A Cluster Bomb is basically a torpedo sized bomb that splits in half after it has left the aircraft and releases hundreds of golf ball sized bombs that spread over a huge area. No bomb is ever nice, but this one is completely hideous and you can see that it was designed to have maximum devastating effect. It is for this reason why the ‘Convention on Cluster Munitions’ was set up in 2008 and became law in August 2010 to ban using, producing, stockpiling or transferring Cluster Munitions. Luckily for us the first meeting of the state parties took place in Vientiane and we were invited along to one of the week’s events by John Dingley.

Continuing through COPE’s exhibition the impact of the hidden bombs (exploded or unexploded) turns into reality as you walk past towers of homemade prosthetic legs displayed to illustrate how people in Laos coped with loosing a limb before COPE established in 1997. There are many pictures in the exhibit that tell individual stories and there are others that show the excellent work COPE is doing with it’s work in rehabilitation, training programs and producing prosthetics.

We also learnt that there are two other problems relating to the UXO’s and Laotions. One is that poor people can actually earn a living from collecting either exploded or unexploded bombs to sell them as scrap metal and the other is that rural people use the bombs or scrap as tools, bedding pots and building materials. The consequences are so obvious that I don’t need to write about them.

COPE is a great organisation with a positive approach. You can pay them a visit on the web or in person http://www.copelaos.org/

Association for Aid and Relief, Japan (AAR JAPAN) – A great project.

Located next to COPE is the AAR Japan project that we also visited. This project produces and gives away forty wheelchairs a month to people who can’t afford them. The project works like a double edge sword because it doesn’t only provide a much needed service but it also employs and trains staff with disabilities to build the wheelchairs. Over the last ten years this project has given away hundreds of wheelchairs (costs $100/wheelchair) , which has contributed hugely to a country that is so in need but unfortunately the projects funding comes to an end in early 2011.
AAR Japan website: www.aarjapan.gr.jp/english/act/laos/index.html

Mechanical Problems – A waiting game.
Over the weeks we spent in Vientiane we have spent a vast majority of our time with the mechanics at Lao Ford City. A Philippine mechanic, called Hernan fitted our parts and worked into the night on countless occassions to get Miranda back on the road. We owe Hernan a huge amount of thanks for helping us and we also owe thanks to Gary from Frogs Island 4x4 in the UK for all of his advice and for doing everything possible to get our parts to us promptly.

Miranda’s Situation
The engine warning light is still on. Hernan tested the fault on the computer, which showed that the fault is coming from either the injector pump or the EGR. After some adjustments to the pumps timing Hernan managed to get the fault reading down to 0.75 and he said that an unacceptable reading is 4, so anything under that should be fine. She seems to be driving ok, so I have everything crossed that she will be ok.

A Good Guest Is One That Knows When To Leave – That is not us.
There are times in life when it is difficult to put feelings into words. On the eve of leaving Vientiane both Chrissy and I are finding it hard to come up with the words to express how much we would like to thank John, Katrina and Casper for everything they have done to help us. Thank you seems far too meager. Even so, we would sincerely like to thank them for their amazing hospitality and friendship over the last two months – they certainly made the challenges we faced far easier. Katrina once said, ‘What goes around, comes around’, so we hope we will be able to return the favour in the future.


The people we have met here in Vientiane have also been extremely welcoming and it has been great getting to know them all. We would like to thank the people who have fed us roast chicken; driven us around in the Pope mobile; ordered medication; helped fix our van; found cheaper deals to send our parts to the UK; taught us something; hosted a talk I gave at I-Cat Galley; lifted me in and out of Tuk-Tuks and the Pope mobile; driven us around in a Tuk-Tuk; fed us more delicious food; invited us to Christmas; gave us ginger bread men; reheated our gravy (Steven); invited Chrissy to a Hens Party and shared a part of their lives with us. You know who you are, so Thank You Very Very Much.

Good bye and thank you. We are going to miss Vientiane.

PS. Public message from Brendon at COPE - ‘Eat your greens’.

The Curious Chinese (8th Sept - 16th Oct)

What was your preconception of the Chinese people before you arrived in China?
Tea, communism and Chinese food are the first things that came to mind, but to tell you the truth, I didn’t have any distinct opinion or view of the Chinese. I had heard on the travelers’ grapevine that the Chinese were very shrewd business people. Apart from that I guessed that they may have deep routed traditions and beliefs and because we weren’t allowed to drive through their country without having a guide; numerous permits and a non-negotiable itinerary, I thought that they might be very secretive.

Did you observe any specific characteristics that the Chinese have?
Our first encounter with the Chinese was when some Chinese truck drivers came to our aid in no-mans land (when I damaged Miranda’s undercarriage). They were extremely friendly and proud of China. However, a few hours later my initial impression changed after experiencing what felt like a thorough questioning; followed by a dogged and meticulous inspection of every corner of our van by the Chinese border officials – they even made Chrissy rip Taiwan out of the Lonely Planet map of China as it was demarcated as a separate country from China. At that point I thought, ‘One month driving in China. What the hell have we let ourselves in for?’ Thankfully, we never witnessed these characteristics again during our journey through China.


The Chinese as a nation never seem to stop! I did notice that most Chinese are extremely enthusiastic about starting their own businesses and improving their lives, which generally means if you need anything, whether it’s a mechanic or a toothbrush at any time of day, seven days a week, you can always find one. Having said all of that I have to say that my overriding memory of the Chinese main characteristics is how curious they are.

Can you give me an example?


It became customary that before we set off every morning we would eat our ‘Jin-glish Breakfast’ outside the back of the van, which was either muesli or muesli. Louis Long (our guide) would generally squat down next to me eagerly slurping down his breakfast, whilst Chrissy sat on the bumper to make her way happily through her favorite meal of the day. On each occasion I felt like we were being watched by encircling vultures and moments later we would be surrounded by a crowd of curious Chinese. In between his masticating mouthfuls Louis would then tell them about what were doing. At the end of his rehearsed speech he would tell them that I was actually the driver at which point they would look me up and down and just before they strode off towards my drivers door they would give Louis a look like they thought he was a total nut-bag. Without doubt they would return minutes later with an enormous grin on their faces, giving me the thumbs up with both hands.


By the end of the month I could tell Louis was getting tired of the constant questioning but for me I think it’s extremely important for people to see and know what we are doing, regardless of how tired we are. I do this not to gloat, but in the hope that I will implant a memory of a disabled person driving an adapted van from the UK to Australia. I hope that if unfortunate circumstances ever happen to the people who have met us and they, their friends or family sustain a spinal cord injury then they may think back to that crazy Jin-glish guy who drove with hand-controls and realise that there may be a solution to the problems they face. I don’t mean to sound arrogant. I personally believe that its easier to strive for something, if you know what you want to achieve is not impossible i.e. it’s far easier to sail around the world knowing the world isn’t flat. Right?


Getting back to the question the funniest experience of the ‘curious Chinese’ occurred in Xining. Once again Louis and I were sat outside our van chomping down our breakfast whilst people weaved in and out of our circle, stared in our cereal bowls and went to look at the hand-controls. However, this day was different. Chrissy was out of sight behind the curtains of the van brewing up some tea and coffee. As soon as our audience sensed hidden movement coming from her concealed position they would hone in on their prey like a pack of hyenas. Without asking for permission, I watched a six-foot security guard dressed in a camouflage uniform and big black boots pull the curtain back and disappear into the van. Moments earlier I had watched him spark up a cigarette and shove it in his mouth before he completed his vanishing act. When he finally emerged with his cigarette slightly shorter but still wedged firmly in his mouth, two more people clambered past him to disappear through the curtain in a Narnia-like way. At this point, I imagined what the consequences would be if this very same thing happened to unsuspecting people in England. They would surely think that the world had gone stark raving insane. Thankfully, we had gotten used to this level of curiosity and all we could do was laugh at the situation. Chrissy later recounted how the three people who invited themselves into the back of the van had sat down behind her watching her every move, whilst puffing away on their cigarettes and without saying a word, as though they were at the theatre.



Have they left any lasting impressions?


Finger prints! Jokes aside there were finger prints all over our van throughout our time in China - evidence of countless people who pressed themselves against the van to peer in through the van windows. Stranger still, they also seemed to be fascinated about inquisitively tapping on every different material as they made their way past our van, even if we were inside.


Apart from their curiosity I was struck by a) how easily they laughed and b) the numerous acts of generosity that they directed towards us. The most memorable act of generosity also occurred in Xining shortly after we had got the van going with the help of quick start spray. A passerby (Mr Wang) had helped Louis take our air intake pipe off and afterwards he invited us for dinner at his friends restaurant that night. After a day of driving Miranda from one mechanic to another and doing everything I could to try to not let her stall in the chaotically busy roads, we were met by Mr. Wang and his friend Mr. Hung who again invited us out for dinner. Although we were all exhausted, we felt like we had to accept. Cutting a long story short, it turned out Mr. Wang’s friend owned an extravagant restaurant that specialised in Chinese fusion food. And it latter turned out that Mr. Wang, who now thought of me of his “Jin-glish brother” (those were his words) wanted to use our example to ‘inspire his staff to challenge themselves to exceeding their potential’. Although I felt embarrassed after meeting all of his members staff and having to pose with them all for countless pictures, it was a great night and an experience that we will not forget.


Another experience that matched that one if not exceeded it, was being invited to have dinner with Louis’ wife and parents-in-law in Chengdu. It was obvious that they had spent a long time cooking over five different Sichuan dishes for us and what’s more, they had cooked the ones that Louis remembered that we had really enjoyed on our trip.


As always, the most memorable and enjoyable experiences on our journey so far haven’t occurred at tourist sites. Instead our greatest memories have come from meeting the local people and sharing a tiny part of their lives.


I have to say that although driving through China was extremely challenging it was also a fantastic experience. The people we met went out of their way to help us and we will always be truely grateful to them all for everything they did to for us.

Do you have any final thoughts?


Travelling in China has given me a glimpse of what an industrializing nation is like and as a result it has given me a greater understanding of the processes countries like the UK have also had to go through in their history. Whilst it’s admirable how much the Chinese have achieved in such a short time, it is slightly concerning that their development is having such a dramatic impact on the Chinese natural landscape. Its not just China who is to blame, we’ve seen countless examples of environmental damage in numerous countries during our journey. We’ve seen rivers so polluted that nothing could survive in them; we’ve breathed in air that is thick with sulphur that has been given off by coal fired power stations; we’ve witnessed bottomless irrigation projects that are bleeding the reserves dry; and we’ve seen thousand of hectares of treeless landscapes.


On the flip side of the coin, it is fantastic that we have also seen large wind powered farms (and evidence of new ones for the future)and hydroelectric dams along our journey, however, is it enough? I don’t think so! We have been in a unique situation, were we’ve had a ‘vans-eye view’ of the world and I don’t think the level of sustainable projects we’ve seen outweigh the level of destruction we have also witnessed. It would be hardly surprising if this year’s extreme weather is a result of ‘human advancement’, although interestingly the Chinese attribute it to 2012 - an American action blockbuster about the end of the world.


The Bushmen of the Kalahari have a rule that you never take everything from nature, whether it’s a shrub or a grub and if you kill an animal you give thanks to the animal. It’s a sustainable idea to ensure that there will always be something left for future generations. To me I think that this simple concept of giving something back after we have taken something for ourselves has been forgotten about. Although this is an extremely simplistic example, I strongly believe that if this concept of sustainability was introduced on a greater level e.g. if it was a mandatory policy in business and government then it would make everything we do in life so much more sustainable.

I wonder what our legacy will be for future generations i.e. 1. They should have acted sooner to prevent the disaster or 2. Thank goodness they acted - just in the nick of time. So, what does the future have instore for us if we don’t all make a change?

Update on Miranda's situation

The good news is that our injector pump arrived from the UK late last week. It was fitted along with a new timing belt over the weekend (after a lot of adjustments to the timing before the engine started) and I'm pleased to say that Miranda is now running again - although she still hasn't left the workshop.

The bad news is that an engine warning light has illuminated on the dashboard, which is not good. This didn't happen before so I image that the fault has something to do with re-fitting the injector pump. This is yet again another set back to our schedule.

On a side note, we have learnt that faulty injector pumps are very common in this part of the world due to the poor quality of diesel that is used. Basically, an injector pump injects fuel at a very high pressure and at a precise time into the cylinders (via injectors), which is only one process of a combustion engine (Suck, Squeeze, Bang, Blow). The pump is designed to use excess diesel to lubricate the complex working parts in the pump. The excess fuel is then returned to the tank via a fuel filter by a return pipe. Knowing this you can now imagine how easy it is for an injector pump and its intricate mechanisms to fail if poor quality diesel is used.

Xian & the Terracotta Army, (24th to 26th September, China)

I have to say that arriving in the ancient city of Xian felt bitter sweat. On one hand we felt extremely jubilant that we had travelled from one end of the Silk Road to the other. On the other hand we felt disappointed that Xian marked the end of one section of our journey.

It is hard to put into words the exact feelings we experienced, but in the simplest terms, we felt an extraordinary sense of satisfaction arriving at the final terminal of the Silk Road. I think it boils down to the fact that we had followed in the same footsteps of people from a time gone by and had to overcome the same challenges and face the same treacherous side of mother nature as they did. Having said that, our experience was made a hundred times easier by driving a motorised vehicle and travelling on tarred roads and it is this knowledge that has given us a huge amount of respect for those who completed the journey in a more rudimentary way. For me, the realization of what the first travellers accomplished should be put into the same context as sailing around the world or climbing Mt Everest – they achieved a truly remarkable feat!

Funnily enough our first night in Xian may have resembled the practices of a trading caravan. As per usual we arrived late at night in another Chinese city (Xian). Yet again we were unable to find a enclosed car park (to camp in) , so in a modern day ‘Silk Road Traveller Style’ I launched Miranda up the nearest curb; parked outside a noodle shop; packed our guide off into the budget-of-budget guest houses and then bedded down in the van. The next morning we woke to the sound of rain and a little old Chinese granny heckling us to get off her pavement. As we peeled the curtains open we were startled to see a market had set up all around us; leaving hardly enough space for Chrissy to squeeze out of barely open van door.

Feeling scorned, we departed our nights resting point like a dog with its tail between its legs. As I watched the granny (who was still shaking her walking stick at us) fade away in my rear view mirror it struck me what a strange phenomenon it is, that despite their petite appearance, grannies from all over the world have unique ability to instill an awful amount of fear in the younger generation. This thought disappeared quickly with the thought of what lay ahead that day – visiting the Terracotta Army. I had read about the Terracotta Army in the National Geographic when I was a teenager and the prospect of visiting the site made me feel incredibly excited. This time I think I will just let the pictures do the talking.





What an experience!

Limbo in Laos (27th Nov - 14th Dec)

Sabaidee (hello) everyone,

Here is a very quick update. We still haven't moved on, because we are still waiting for Miranda to be fixed. Our injector pump was sent to an injector pump specialist in the UK to be calibrated. HOWEVER, as our pump is very unique (apparently) the specialist was unable to fix it, so it has been sent to another specialist in Reading. All of which means that we are now nearly 2 months behind our schedule and we might have to wait another week or two before we are on the road again. Although this is incredibly frustrating we are remaining patient.

On the plus side we are beginning to feel like locals here. We’re best of friends with our Tuk Tuk driver who ferries us around in the back of a Tuk Tuk and the dogs in town no longer bark at me in my wheel chair. In fact, they've got so use to me they barely manage to peel one eyelid open as a wheel past.

The only other news is Chrissy is going out with a Lao man who is called Iwaz Wonzawoman. Only joking……..I just thought I’d write something slightly interesting for you.

Bye bye for now.

Ps Just incase you didn't know that you shouldn't stand on the toilet seat to carry out your business here is a public notice for you. 'Toilet Awareness' Go - Enjoy it!