August 09th, 2010

Dispatch from the road: Rally London-Mongolia, Part 13

Thursday

At 8:00 am we get our wake up call. We want to be at Land Rover right when it opens. Mikhail and I decide to go and Parag stays behind to do some work.

Dmitry greets us and it’s comforting to see a face we recognize. We also meet Vladimir who is head of the dealership. He doesn’t speak English but looks at me, nods and smiles kindly.

I ask Mikhail to translate. “Please convey to him how thankful we are that they are working on our car, that they’ve taken us in so quickly and that everyone has just been so incredibly nice.”

Mikhail translates back from Vladimir. “I can imagine what it would be like to be in a strange place and to have crashed and not know anyone. We will do everything we can to get you back on the road so you can make it to Mongolia.” I am taken aback by his kindness and empathy.

They take our car in right away and begin looking through it. Their initial reaction is that the engine looks ok. Our main obstacle is that we need to order a new windshield from Moscow (that’s if they actually carry the correct one for a military ambulance from 1991) and that the metal frame around the windshield is severed and needs to be welded back together. If we are not on the road by mid-day Saturday (two and a half days) we will have to end the rally.

Our Land Rover mechanic in Moscow says he has the windshield in stock; first problem solved. DHL says they can overnight it and have it to us tomorrow; second problem solved. The mechanics say that they’ve never had to weld anything quite like this but were able to order a special welding kit, third problem solved.

We come back to the hotel and Parag and Mikhail head out to go hunt for a new computer for Parag. I promptly sleep for most of the day. Although mostly we feel fine, just some sore necks, the crash has left us strangely exhausted.

“Yes, guys our luck has finally changed!”

Mikhail informs us that the windshield will be here the next day and it will only take 3 hours to fix and we can be on the road the next afternoon!

After a quick dinner we head back to the room. Parag continues to work and Mikhail decides to head out to go see a movie. Although Parag is working with the lights on, talking on the phone and chatting with Mikhail when he returns I am so exhausted I sleep soundly through all of it.

Friday

We get our same wake up call at 8:00 am and Mikhail and I head back to Land Rover to check up on the car’s progress. After sleeping most of the previous day, I feel great. The mechanics have determined the car is fine and now it’s just a matter of replacing the windshield.

“No, no, no!” I look at Mikhail and brace for the bad news he’s about to give me.

“The airport is closed for now and I don’t know if DHL will be able to get in.”

“What do you mean it’s closed for now?”

“Putin just flew in and they shut it for his arrival.”

“What? How many times a year would he come to a small city like this?” I inquire.

“Maybe once a year…if that.” Just our luck.

“Well, on the bright side maybe we can all do some shirtless horseback riding together.” Mikhail is not in the mood for my jokes.

The most powerful man in Russia has just single-handedly dashed our chances of leaving on Saturday.

We all have our priorities. Parag decides to stay in and get some work done. Mikhail hunts for a new BlackBerry battery as his was destroyed in the crash. I determine this is an opportune moment to go shopping for fur hats.

The team comes back together for a late lunch around 4:00 at a restaurant outside the hotel that could only be described as a Ukrainian dude-ranch.

“Guys, great news—the windshield arrived!” This means that now we will be able to leave on Saturday!

The boys are working on their computers and I’m napping once again when Mikhail gets another call.

“Oh no, you’ve got to be kidding me!” We all look up. “Guys, we have a problem.”

It turns out the windshield has a huge crack down the middle. Land Rover says they can glue it and it should get us to Ulaan Baatar. It’s also taking longer than expected and we won’t be able to leave until mid-afternoon the next day; our absolute cut-off time.

We’ve now used up all our spare time and if we are lucky will only have a half day to spend at Lake Baikal.
Over dinner we discuss our new plan of action. Buy food at the grocery store, not stop for lunch, wake up early, drive late, make up time, hopefully get some time to rest at Lake Baikal.

Our cut-off time to cross the border into Mongolia is August 1st because that’s when Parag’s Russian visa expires. Now, because of the crash, we are cutting it very close. We all pack and prepare out things to leave the next day. After a few days being static we’re all looking forward to getting back on the road.

Saturday

We allow ourselves the luxury of sleeping in; we’ve got nowhere to go.  Back to the breakfast buffet. Then we sit in the lobby each waiting for “the call.” Parag works, Mikhail reads and I begin the dreaded task of re-creating the rally posts that were lost on Parag’s computer.

Mikhail receives a text from Allen, the other rallier who was stuck in Chelyabinsk. He was able to leave the previous day and he said that the roads ahead look good save for one stretch with some construction. Good news for us as we now have to make up a significant amount of ground.

At about 2 PM Mikhail’s phone rings. He speaks in Russian and Parag and I await the news.

Would the team make it back on the road? Click Read more to find out…

“They’ve done it! They put in the windshield and sealed it up! The car will be ready in an hour!”  We scramble to get ready and head off to Auto Planet.

We’re greeted by Andrey. He takes us to the car and shows us around. The windshield only has a small crack on the passenger side; much less of an issue than we thought.

“Just a quick test drive and we’re good to go.”

Parag climbs in the drivers seat, Andreyy next to him and Mikhail and I are in the back. Driving around the block, the car feels good.

“She’s driving a bit hot.” Parag notices.

I lean over to take a look.

“Hmm, that’s where she was driving before…and that was after hours of driving. Not good.”   

After a few more feet we watch as the needle moves up nearly into the red zone. It’s never been this close to red before.  Andrey looks somewhat concerned. Not good.

Back at the dealership we jump out and notice a small puddle of anti-freeze on the ground. When we left we had a small leak in the radiator but this is more than a few drops. Parag pulls the car forward toward the garage and I run up to tell them. Just as I peek under the car to check again, all the anti-freeze gushes out and lands in a huge bluish puddle on the ground. Not good.

“Uh guys…” I look at Andrey and point. Andrey looks very concerned and takes out his cell phone. Reinforcements are needed. Really not good.

“Alright let’s get on the phone with Moscow and have them overnight a new radiator like they did with the windshield.” Parag suggests.

“Dude, they don’t have it. We wanted to replace it in Moscow since it was leaking a bit – they checked and there isn’t one in Russia.”  Mikhail answers.

“What about the UK?”

“They say it’s the weekend and no one will be there until Monday, then we’d still need to wait for them to send it.”

“I don’t have that long. If we’re not on the road tomorrow the very latest I’m going to have to fly out of here direct to Mongolia.”

“Can we take one from another car? I suggest eyeing a nearby silver Land Rover Defender.

“Nope, ours is a V8 and they don’t have Defender V8’s in Russia.
There is only one way to fix the problem and that is welding the crack in radiator. Except it’s copper which is notoriously difficult to weld and needs to be done by a trained expert in copper welding. And it’s Saturday and no one is working.

It turns out that since Chelyabinsk is the steel capital of Russia there is actually a metallurgical institute nearby that happens to have a couple of “guys” who weld copper. If we were in any other city we would be calling for flight schedules but because we happen to break down in Chelyabinsk we might have a prayer.

Except it’s the weekend and no one is working. And if we wait until Monday it will be too late.

Andrey calls Vladimir, and Vladimir calls the copper welding guys and asks them as personal favour to fix the car on a Sunday.  Of course, they want 4 times their weekday rate but this is not the time for haggling so Mikhail strikes a deal. Land Rover Chelyabinsk to the rescue, yet again.

Since we thought the car was fixed and we were leaving we now need to go back to the hotel and check in again. We are feeling a bit defeated, but still we hold out hope.

Vladimir arrives, even though it’s his day off, to check on us and make sure we’re ok. I turn to Mikhail and tell him that we should find some kind of present to re-pay the guys for going above and beyond. But Vladimir beats us to it. He comes out and hands each of us a bottle of vodka. Mikhail translates that it’s local premium vodka. Why he’s giving us presents I have no idea and I’m a bit embarrassed.

“Mikhail. He fixed our car and given us presents let’s invite him out for drinks tonight.” Mikhail translates and Vladimir accepts.

Vladimir motions for us and offers to take us back to our hotel and says he’ll call us about our plans later in the evening. We all lay down to rest.

I decide that since we’re going out that I’ll look like a girl for the night, something that hasn’t happened since we left Moscow. This will include: washing and drying my hair, wearing earrings and putting on lipstick.

The phone rings and it’s Vladimir.

“So he wants to know what you want to do tonight.” Mikhail translates to me.

“Something local, something they do here.”

“How about a banya? He suggested we go to an authentic one in his mom’s village.”

“What’s a banya?”

“A bath house, like a spa.”

“Ooh, a spa is good. But boys and girls do this together?”

“Yes, sometimes.”

“Like with a bathing suit.”

“Sure.”

“I did bring a cute bikini.”

I begin frantically changing my girl routine. No drying of the hair since it would get wet, no earrings, no lipstick. Oh well, at least there will be a bikini.

“Michele, you know he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.” The boys begin to tease me.

“I guess it could be a mail-order husband situation.”

“Or a crash-order bride.”

“Look I’d have unlimited access to Land Rovers, I could wear fur hats nearly year round and besides he’s kind of hot. Works for me. Mikhail, play yenta and make it happen.”

Parag decides to stay behind to do work so Mikhail and I head downstairs to meet Vladimir. He motions to his car, a Lada, and tells Mikhail that he is waiting for his new Land Rover to arrive.

“He wants to know if you’ve ever driven a soviet car.” Mikhail translates. While i’ve driven many different types of vehicles I have indeed never driven a soviet car.

Mikhail tells me that prior to working at Land Rover Vladimir was a Lieutenant-Colonel in the army. His superior got a job at Land Rover and hired him and in turn, he hired Andrey, who was his second in command.

We start driving and Mikhail and Vladimir mostly speak in Russian and I sit back and enjoy the drive. After about a half hour we come into a small town.

“This is his mother’s village.” Mikhail translates to me.

We pull into a home and I’m a bit confused. Where’s the spa? Are we saying a quick hello to his mom? Are we picking up some more vodka?

We get out and Mikhail tells me we’re at his mom’s house. I get the feeling that we’ll be eating dinner here and I’m quite excited for a traditional Russian home-cooked meal.

We’re greeted by a stereotypical Russian babushka; a sweet, rotund woman in a flowered house dress. She smiles and waves us through the gates. Vladimir shows us around the outside where we walk down little paths leading to gardens after gardens. He shows us the cucumbers, potatoes, tomatoes, eggplants, and then rows of beautiful flowers of every different color.

Then we’re lead to a little room off one of the gardens. We enter and the walls are lined with wood panels; it feels warm and steamy.

I look at Mikhail.

“Oh, this is the banya.”

“Yup.”

We head back to the main house and inside is a table already arranged with plates and bowls and platters of food enough for 20 people. It reminds me of my grandmother’s house.

“Sit, sit.” The mother motions for me. Vladimir pulls out the chair for me and I’m impressed at what a gentleman my new husband appears to be. Mikhail and I look at each other.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he says to me.

First, out comes the vodka. Mikhail downs his the traditional Russian way—in one gulp. I’m happy to see Vladimir just take a sip and I do the same.

There must be at least 15 different dishes on the table including: Plov (Uzbek rice dish with lamb), fresh cucumbers and tomatoes undoubtedly fresh from the garden, roasted eggplant (from the garden) sprinkled with fresh garlic, boiled potatoes (from the garden), meat wrapped in cabbage and numerous other delicacies. It was by far the best meal I had on the trip.

The meal is over and I’m still unclear of how this is all working. We all walk over to the banya and they all speak in Russian. While they converse I think how wonderful it must be to have a sauna in your back yard. Everyone must get together, chat, drink vodka and hang out in the banya. I’ve already got my bikini on; this is going to be great!

Mikhail looks at me smiling.

“Ok well, she said she’d show you how to do it.”

“Oh, wait, so we’re not doing this together?”

“Um no.”

“Well then, don’t I just sit there then?”

“Not exactly, there’s a whole washing process, but she’ll do it with you.”

“Oh ok.”

The mom motions for me and the boys leave. I already had my bikini on so I take off my clothes and I’m ready to go in. She looks at me and waves her finger.

“No, no.”

I point to just the top. She motions. Nope, it’s all coming off. I’m dealing with the fact that I’m now supposed to take off all my clothes when it hits me. Wait a minute, she’s coming with me…oh no!

I recall the story Mikhail had told me about his friend’s wife and her mother-in-law. I thought that was mortifying, and only one of them was naked!

My new mother-in-law, who I just met a half hour ago, and I then enter the banya, stripped of both housedress and cute bikini.

There are two rooms a hot room and a hotter room. We go into the hotter room first. She instructs me to lie down and takes a bundle of leafy branches shaking them all over me. I’m guessing this is a kind of exfoliant.

I am overtaken by the extreme heat so the nakedness becomes less of an issue as heat is really all I can concentrate on at this point.

Then she tells me we can go into the hot room. There are two faucets of water—one hot and one cold. She pours cool water over me and it feels unbelievably refreshing. She takes bath scrub and shows me I should put that on my body and scrub with a loofa. Then cleanse with the cool water.

She points to a bucket and then my hair. I flip my hair over into the bucket and she puts on shampoo and massages it into my head. Then she flips me over and pours water over my head to clean out the shampoo.

She hands me a jar and once I touch it I realize it’s conditioner. I haven’t conditioned my long, unruly hair this entire trip. Then I sit and relax and she motions that whenever I get hot I can pour the cool water on myself. I am liking this banya thing.

We emerge from the banya and I really do feel incredibly clean, warm and relaxed. Back in the house the guys look up at us from the table. They look a bit nervous wondering how things went. The mom speaks and they both laugh.

“She said she cleaned you as if you were her own granddaughter.” Mikahil said.

Now it’s the guys turn. But not before Vladimir offers me a brush and then a hairdryer.

I sit back at the table and the mom brings me hot tea with fresh cut lemons. The desert, like the meal, is spread all across the table. There’s cake, chocolates, berries and still some of the meal left. I begin to eat some of the tiny black currants which are both sweet and slightly tart.

I very much wish I could converse with her but instead all I say is “good” and point at the berries.

The guys return after a short while, clean and still damp from the banya. We all sit at table and eat dessert and Mikhail tells them about my website and various driving activities. It’s a wonderful evening and they’ve treated us like family but it’s about 1 am and time for us to head back.

We arrive back at the hotel and I am still so taken by Vladimir’s kindness and want so desperately to be able to thank him or give him a present for his great generosity. The guys shake hands and I kiss him European style on both cheeks. I start running through what I have with me that I could give him as a present but since i’m travelling with only essentials I have nothing of value.

Back up at the room, Parag inquires about our adventure.

“Well…” Mikhail begins. “This is most certainly the first time I’ve met a guy who’s worked on my car and I’ve also seen his genitals.”

The banya left us unbelievably relaxed and we all fall asleep immediately.