The weather is turning fast. Our desire to say hello to other ralliers and get the lowdown on this border situation is quickly superseded by the need to set up shelter.

Ashgabat, the capitol of Turkmenistan is a weird weird place. There is only one television station and it broadcasts state propaganda. There are not much other than politicized, monolithic construction of the Soviet government and of President Niyazov, all are façade in white marble and gold. The hotel rooms are potentially bugged as are any of the restaurants foreigners frequent.

“Irina” our little Dacia Logan is about to log in 10,000 km on The Mongol Rally and I wanted to make sure that she is okay before I start down the hardest part of rally and the toughest roads. I pull into a mechanic’s shop in Kazakhstan wanting a general check up, breaks, clutch, and maybe even an oil change.

That doesn’t seem too ridiculous does it?

Enter Lachlan. Tall, scruffy, intense, knew our team and who we were as soon as I walked up. We’ve been exchanging a few Facebook messages on the group page and this is the first time we’ve meet in person, its funny how that happens. He is driving alone and has meet up with a couple of Lithuanians (who are not on the rally just having their own massive road trip) and have been looking after Lachlan a little. Ishmael asks if Lachlan wants his help with the visa and getting on the boat, Lachlan being a little naïve to the way of the world told Ishmael, no, he will do it himself.