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Day 23 - Hello Altay Mountains

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Following on from the previous blog…

I don't know whether it was waking up in our new tents, or enjoying a relaxing evening by the river, or being in the company of so many good people; but we all enjoyed a fantastic nights sleep, one of the best of our camping days.

Packing away camp is just as efficient these days as setting it up. Ed always seems to be the first to wake, obviously enjoying rousing the rest of us with gentle calls of "You want breakfast NOW?", and we were all up by 8am. The camp site was just as stunning in the morning as it was at dusk - the ever flowing river providing the stereotypical perfect backdrop, the tall trees providing ample cover from the sun and the road just far enough to be unnoticed, but close enough to be accessible. 

24 torpid rallyers soon emerged from their tents, following suit and beginning the pack away. As i've mentioned before, we repack the entire car on a daily basis. Not something you'd think we'd need - but during the day, if someone wants something from the boot, the end result is a disorganised pile of mess. By repacking every morning, still keeping an eye on weight distribution, you usually know where things are.

We set off about 9am - five cars in our convoy (else we'd be waiting an hour or two before the last team set sail) and headed into the ever swelling landscape. This was the beginning of the Altai Mountains, famed for their breathtaking beauty. Even after an hour, you began to appreciate the hold they had on visitors despite the topography only being classed as "hilly". Each sweeping bend along a hillside road offered stunning forest views, and we watched the altimeter creep higher and higher.

After 3 or so hours driving, we all made the ascent up a particularly large hill and found a small roadside cafe. A small wooden shack, built in a traditional circular Soviet style with a bbq/fire outside suggested a cafe, anyway. We all parked up, joining a small group of local cars, and headed inside. On the menu? Meat and bread. Fantastic, and cooked in front of us. All for the sum of £1. We sat around outside with a fantastic view of the valleys surrounding us. Outside, until dark black clouds swooped in from the west and reduced day to dusk within minutes. Accompanying this dark sky was rain - a lot of rain. We hadn't seen a great deal so far - a random storm in Kazakhstan, but not much else.

The rain fell, and it fell. Not the pathetic rain we'd see in the UK - these rain drops were the size of golf balls, smashing the ground where we stood. Quickly retreating to the waterless safety of the cafe, we easily filled the small hut. The view was too good to miss though - I went out, sheltering under the 1 foot overhand of the entrance, and filmed the awesome sight. The rain wasn't the only thing to come out to perform in front of the camera - hail also joined the willing party, certainly the first we'd seen on this trip.

Meat and bread went down very well, and once again we set off towards the Russian/Mongolian border. Every 10 minutes that we progressed, we'd climb for 9 of those minutes up ever growing hills, their statuses upgrading from large hills to small mountains. The views were breathtaking, as promised by so many guidebooks and websites. As we skirted across roads carved into the edges of these summits, each valley was as jaw-dropping as the next. Lush, green, commanding views across miles of rivers and forest. Our convoy of 5 continued, with the aim of finding somewhere to stay so that we could make the border nice and early the next day.

As we entered the collection of peaks, we predictably noticed it getting a lot colder. The tops of the mountains started to show their snow covered tips, and for the first time all three of us kitted ourselves out in the fantastic team wear provided by BS Embroidery. I've been meaning to get photos of our clothing line on the site - i'm sure many of you will have seen, if not own, one of the great polo or t-shirts, but we also have team hoodies and jackets. They'd been sat in the back for a few weeks, the forty something degree heat deeming them useless. Until now of course, and we looked awesome. 

Onwards we drove, the hours seeming like minutes as we traversed thousands of feet in altitude, stopping several times for photos. Ed in particular is the master photographer, and picked the best spots to stop despite every minute being a potential postcard. Upwards and upwards we went, reaching a peak of 2,235 meters above sea level. Not bad for a day's leisurely driving.

The CB radios have once again proved to be fantastic - this time, we invented "Mongoloke" - a car & CB version of Karaoke. Within our convoy there were three teams with radios - Mongol Mongrels, Two Mongoleers and us. This proved to be a fantastic use of our time, each team taking turns in belting out a song whilst cruising through the mountains. The song choices were below:Ed & Emma: Lily Allen - It's not fair, Katy Perry - Hot & Cold, Bryan Adams - Summer of 69Laura & Paul - Blur - Park LifeUs - Tenacious D - Tribute, Verve - Sonnet, Tenacious D - **** her gently, Take That - Back for GoodI filmed many of the songs, unfortunately not ours though. Those little videos will be featured on the website as soon as we're back!

As we approached the border, we passed through a small village - the last settlement before we reached the end of Russia. We made the collective decision to camp near here - far enough away from the border to enjoy our last night in the Soviet empire, but close enough to make it there when it opened in the morning. As we passed through the village, nestled amongst the towering peaks of the Altay mountains, we spotted a little motel. A very basic one, yet managed to grab a 6 bed dorm and a 2 bed room. The girls took the room and the boys took the dorm - 6 single beds crammed into a room, each with childrens duvet covers on. Will got the award for best duvet cover, featuring two cats shouting "Best Friends Forever". It was also luminous green.

Food was on the cards, so team Supermarket Sweep took Pete the Saxo further into the village and eventually found a little shop. What a strange little shop it was as well - it seems to be the standard the further east we get, where everything in the shop is out of reach from the customer. Instead, the shelves behind the long counter are stocked with all manner of goods. The thing you want, you have to ask for. No problem you might think, apart from when you can't speak a word of Russian (other than beer & chips). Lots of pointing, and we managed to get a few bits. Tonight's menu - pasta, pesto and chorizo type sausage. Russians seem to love frozen pasta, tortellini in particular; supermarket chest freezers are at least 40% full of different types. The shop's freezer was no different, bags and bags of different types. What was in the little parcels of pasta however was a mystery. Fish? Lamb? Chicken? All completely useless in our useless language. Em & I even resorted to making animal noises. The shop woman looked at us with that state, wondering if we were certifiably insane - that look is universal in any language. Eventually, the lovely and talented Emma turned to crude sketches of the various animals on a back of a receipt. Eventually we got our point across - lamb indeed filled the pasta.

With dinner purchased, the three of us headed back to the motel and cooked up a feast in the shared kitchen. We're getting quite adept to the art of culinary camping, as it's fallen to Emma & I to prepare the teams meals using nothing but a camping stove. After food, and a couple beers in our big dorm room, night had taken hold of the mountains in which we resided, and all went to sleep at 11pm-ish; the plan for the next day was to wake up at 5.30am and get to the Russian border for opening time…...