Tuk-Tuk to the Road. Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent

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       Chapter 1 Countdown

      When Jo returned from a holiday in Thailand a few years ago and announced that she was going to drive a tuk tuk back from Bangkok to the UK, I never thought for a second I’d be sitting here four years down the line studying maps and wondering which route we are going to take through Kazakhstan. And now here we are, with two months until Lift Off, frantically planning every aspect of our 12,500-mile odyssey. Within the space of a few months I feel as if I have been transformed from an assistant TV producer to a bona fide explorer.

      Until you embark on setting up a mission like this, you have no idea of the massive amount of organisation involved. Everything from which roads we are going to brave to which tent is the best has to be planned carefully. Nothing can be left to chance. Last weekend we were at the Royal Geographical Society, home of cutting-edge scientific exploration, to do a wilderness medical training course. There were scientists who study snow leopards in Siberia, biologists off to Greenland, botanists heading for Borneo…and Jo and I, the Tukkers. I think the weirdest thing we learnt all weekend was that the American military suggests a ‘rectal Mars Bar’ in the case of an unconscious diabetic. And that 25 000 people die in India every year from rabies. Gripping stuff.

      This weekend it’s off to the wilds of Devon for more training, this time for survival skills courtesy of Intrepid Expeditions. I’m horrified to see that the kit list includes mess tins and sleeping mats. Camping was never my forte, but I had better get used to the idea if we’re going to survive in the Central Asian steppes, where there won’t be a power shower or a wi-fi connection for hundreds of miles. Let alone sushi or a black cab. Just us, a pink tuk tuk and the Great Outdoors.

      People keep asking if we’re nervous, but at the moment it just doesn’t seem real. It feels as if we are planning the trip for someone else. I wonder when it will seem real? When we switch on the engine for the first time and the GPS says in that irritating voice ‘Go to the end of the road and turn left’? Or when we find ourselves stranded in a Russian pothole?

      We’re just thawing out from having spent this weekend on the aforementioned survival course in Devon, where we had to skin various animals, build our own shelter and generally behave like Neanderthals. Believe it or not, it was surprisingly fun, despite the subzero temperatures and disgusting army rations.

      As I drove down on Friday I was overcome by a desire to spend the weekend in a swanky hotel—the type with voluminous fluffy towels and delicious cream teas—rather than a Devon wood. My initial impression of Nigel and Kim, our captors for the next few days, did nothing to alleviate my fears—hardcore ex-Marines in big boots and army gear. Neither did the prospect of our first task, building a ‘hasty shelter’ for the night using little more than tarpaulin and rope. But things are rarely as bad as they seem, and a few hours later we were all happily hunkering down around the campfire discovering the joys of life in the woods.

      On Saturday we crammed in a multitude of tasks—skinning rabbits, plucking pigeons, night navigation, building a proper shelter, purifying water, learning 101 ways to light a fire. Jo also taught Nigel and Kim a few of her own special survival skills. I think I can safely say that these were things they hadn’t come across before, and they probably won’t introduce them into subsequent courses.

      All in all it was a brilliant weekend and I feel sure that if we get СКАЧАТЬ