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MONDAY, MAY 1, 2000
TOWER BRIDGE DEPARTURE -
LONDON TO PEKING

Not only will words be inadequate to describe today, but cameras as well! We drove onto Tower Bridge this morning in full sunshine with the top of the car down. We were astounded at the group of people already assembled nearly two hours before we will start. Suddenly we know this will be truly memorable. Kate, Tess, Michael, Craig, Liz, Dale, Karen, Phil, Alice, Tuckie, Lee, Dick, Ann, Bert, Cheryl, Neil, Doug, all are not only here but we can talk to them and hug them and take pictures and get them in the car and be with them just a little longer! In addition, we are suddenly greeted by Margaret, a London resident whom we met in Sicily last year and who said she would come to Tower Bridge and she did!!!! Robin Bidgood from the Royal Thames brought his wife and two year old son. It was so festive and so wonderful that for the rest of our lives we will pinch ourselves to be sure it was real!! Craig and Liz brought special jackets for us and for them and the rest of the family: black microfiber, embroidered on the front with Mercedes 1957 220S on one side and Team Suhrbier Spirit of 2000 on the other. On the back, however, is the best: www.bevedlondontopeking.com clear across the back of the jacket on one line!!! We really did all look like a racing team with our matching jackets and shirts. All of our friends were in Team Suhrbier shirts.

The throat lumps became boulders when it was time to drive to the end of the bridge where Sir Stirling Moss was waiting to give us the checkered flag. We looked at each other and knew it was really going to happen, and it did. There was an announcer announcing each car and driver but we cannot remember a word he said. All we know is that Sir Stirling Moss said a few kind words, dropped the flag, and off we went. The sun was so warm and the crowds even warmer. We felt an exhilaration that was beyond description. The balloons, flags, crowds cheering - we felt such celebrities. Both of us were interviewed by the BBC at some length, so perhaps our Brit friends even saw us on the evening news. The press coverage was incredible. Hope that if any of you see any articles, pictures, or other data, you will save them for us. Our friend Kevin was giving his interview to the NPR on the bridge, so perhaps we will hear a tape of that, too.

We keep hearing that everyone makes navigation errors. I was chagrined that my first was on the way to Lenham when I did not give Ed enough warning to get in the left lane. Fortunately, it was only a six kilometer error which was made up without problem. When we entered the picturesesque village of Lenham, the crowd was so thick and the cheering so loud that Ed said he felt as he was a returning war veteran with medals! The road was narrow and curved through the village and the crowd was six or seven deep all along the way. We are astounded with our reception! In addition, the people with whom we are traveling are friendly, optimistic,, and interesting!

Uneventful drive to Dover and boarding the ferry. We filmed the white cliffs as we sailed toward Calais. Our first night in Chantilly found us still exhilarated and still absolutely flabbergasted by the pageantry and pomp and circumstance of our first day on the road.

MAY 2nd or 3rd, 2000

Everything is superb, no time to hook up computer as yet.Two full days - zero penalties. Great weather. Superb send off.

Special Hellos to Kate & Tess and the 3rd & 4th grade at Sacred Heart and all our friends and family. More later.

We are in Aix le Bains, France on our way to Italy.

THURSDAY, MAY 4th, 2000

No computer hook-up yet, but the trip is going well. We are on our way to Greece tonight. Longer and more difficult roads than anyone anticipated. Unforgettable route and scenery. Fabulous traveling companions and staff. Details later.

Ed & Bev.

SATURDAY, MAY 6, 2000
IMPERIAL PALACE HOTEL
THESSALONAKI, GREECE

Meanwhile, back at the Rally! Our good intentions to give you a daily update have fallen by the wayside. We hope to get back them! For now, a brief summary, and we do hope that you have been able to read the short bulletins we transmitted by phone. The past five days have been far more demanding than any of us had expected. We are here, we are headed for Istanbul tomorrow, so that is the good news. As you will read in the daily updates below which will cover each of the days we have missed (clear back to London), our departure from London was so spectacular that the memories are carved into our hearts and brains so deeply that we refer to them each day! There have been moments the past three days when we have needed those memories. Our first two days on the rally were completely without penalties! It was glorious to see the daily bulletin which stated quite clearly that we were Number One overall and Number One in our class. We were quite confident that we would make every time check and passage on time at least through Europe. The car was performing perfectly, navigation efficient, and the driver showed all the skill and daring he did when he was seventeen! On Wednesday, we were brought back to earth rather abruptly after a "special section" loop road that left us with burned out left rear brake. We limped and groaned into Santa Margherita to the Imperial Palace Hotel after sunset. The front of the elegant old hotel resembled a body repair shop as many cars had severe problems from the day. We spent the evening with Ed jacking up the car and finally with the trip mechanic Peter under the car and wife Betty bleeding the brakes. The lining of the left rear brake, which had been bonded, had simply disappeared! For a while, we were concerned that we would not be able to make it to Ancona, Italy, in time for the ferry to Greece. Peter assured us that the front brakes would be sufficient, but we were skeptical.

We knew we would have to skip the roads through Tuscany. Having driven them all last May, we knew we had not a prayer without brakes. We drove to Pisa in the early morning, certain that a large Mercedes dealer would be able to help us. That was not to be. In addition, Florence and Rome said that it would be several days before any could be obtained. Our options were decreasing as quickly as the hours before ferry departure. None of the roads across the mountains looked promising. Finally, our good old well-used map of Italy which served us well last spring, came to the rescue. We realized that there was an autostrada all the way north to Bologna and then south along the sea into Ancona, so we decided to go for it! Hooray, we did it!

We had hoped that the rally mechanics would be able to find some brakes or that one of the other participants might be willing to lend their extras until we could find new ones because Peter had planned to do the work while the ferry was under way. No luck, but at the very last minute, just as the ferry was about to dock in Igoumenitsa, our friend Kevin Clemens and Ed determined that we could at least clamp the rear left brake so that the fluid could not escape and so that we would at least have three good brakes for the mountain route across Greece. When we reached the car deck with our bags, Peter was already under the car, clamped the hose, and we drove off the ferry.

Yesterday is perhaps best described by the fax which Ed sent Joe in Los Angeles this afternoon:

"Rear left brake melted completely off in Italy on a special section loop road. Made it to the ferry in Ancona. Emergency repair by clamping hose to left rear brake. Drove on three brakes across Greece for twelve hours -- included Meteora and a dirt road over the mountains in the dark to Thessalonaki! Front suspension rod bushing torn off, rotor burned, Terratrip computer failed. Rear shock absorber sheared off and Lucas water/fuel separator broke apart and disappeared. Arrived here at 12:30a.m Repaired everything today on our "day off" in Thessalonaki by a local mechanic. Back to 100%. This is grueling. Still in the race."

The fax says it all. Our priorities have changed immensely in the past seventy-two hours. We have watched one car go off the road completely; fortunately, the driver and navigator sustained only cuts and bruises, but the car was totaled. Our friends Keven and Mark sustained fairly heavy damage to the front left of their car when it was hit by another car in last night's dirve over the mountain (see yesterday's summary), but they, too are able to continue. Our Swiss neurosurgeon friend Hans and his wife Annique have already decided to skip time controls and passage controls and just hope to complete the trip. We too have decided that that is the right course. However, yesterday found us again thrilled when we made all but one of the controls right on time. One of the Scots says that competitive genes are an inescapable part of being an American. Frankly, after last night we are happy to be alive!!!

Today was an unbelievable expression of Greek hospitality, surprising indeed after last year's experience in Athens and after the past few months' publicity. The local Historic and Vintage Automobile Club brought representatives to the esplanade in front of our hotel where all of our cars are parked. It is quite a sight to see them there with the Aegean Sea just behind the cars! Anyway, a man appeared at our car as we were determining our course of action for the day. He announced that he could obtain the brakes we need (even though several Mercedes sources in Germany, Italy, and so forth said they needed a more specific Chassis number for our car than the one which is under our hood). After several calls on his cell phone, he pronounced the problem solved. His colleague escorted us in his red Fiat Spyder convertible to a local Greek mechanic who spent over four hours working on our car. WE ARE READY TO GO TO ISTANBUL TOMORROW!!!!

We again spent the day "sorting out" car problems, but when we see what some others are going through, we feel fortunate. Ed has turned our room into a full laundry service this afternoon, but we were able to sit in the sun on the hotel terrace for a late afternoon snack, watching the sea and all of our cars and all of the local residents who have beeen inspecting the cars all day and to marvel again that we are really here. We are awaiting a technician now who is to bring the proper adapters so that we can send this by e-mail. In a separate "sending", we are finally doing the update of our final days in London, because they were fantastic.!!!

p.s. We are no longer leaders and have amassed penalty points because we were forced to change our route for a whole day, but in a way, it is probably for the best, as we have all seen the results of a difficult route on older cars! Tomorrow is another day!!!!

SUNDAY, MAY 8, 2000
THESSALONIKI, GREECE

This morning was classic rallying and truly enjoyable! We left with bright sunshine and warm air, top down, cruising along well paved highways, with the Mediterranean Sea just to our right the entire way, its magnificent blue making us wonder why we do not come to this part of the world more often. Parts of the terrain reminded us of the drive into Cashmere and Wenatchee. We shared the road at times with a few cows and more than a few dogs, but we were able to go at full cruising speed and reminded ourselves that such a morning was why we had come in the first place. Car problems and other extraneous matters vanished, we were "on the road again". We stopped for lunch at the lovely small quayside town of Porto Lagos. The small local seafood restaurant was run by a woman who must have been the source for the disparaging term of screaming like a "fishwife". She made Seinfeld's soup kitchen "Nazi" seem like a teddybear but her food was phenomenal - deep fried local fish, shrimp, and the best salad in Greece. We sat in the sun, actually waited for our time to have our roadbook signed at the time control desk, and were on our way again, absolutely sure that we would be in Istanbul hours ahead of time.

The afternoon had almost nothing in common with the morning. The narrow dirt roads to the next time check led us through small towns which probably had not seen as many cars in the past five years as there were yesterday. There was no way to know what was a driveway and what was a road. The distance between turns as designated in the route book ranged from .10 kilometers to .25 or .35 or .75. One of the more humorous sights every day is the number of rally cars one meets going the opposite way - U-turns, backups, etc. are routine as drivers and navigators cope not only with the directions but with the frequent errors contained in the roadbook. In the small town of Skiporachi today, the directions were so difficult that we were just about to give up and ask directions when we saw the bright orange arrow signs which had been placed there by the Classic Rally Organization in the knowledge that no one would be able to find the correct route. On to our next checkpoint, on time in spite of some u-turns in various farmer's driveways.

The next section of the afternoon was a special section of 14.5 kilometers for which 12 minutes were allowed. Because over six kilometers of the loop was on a "forest track" of hard dirt with large rocks and potholes all along the way, this was not a generous time allowance. We ate a lot of dust with the top down, but we did the entire section with only a four minute penalty, the ONLY penalty of the day, so we were well satisfied. Had we been able to get our four position racing seatbelts on just a bit faster and if I had been able to run back to the car just a bit faster from the previous timecheck at the beginning of the loop, we would have been right on time. It was only our "takeoff" that slowed us. Watching Ed drive makes me think he is seventeen again ( he seems to think he is, too). We were quite pleased with ourselves, but then again, a bit concerned that again our priorities may be skewed.

We continue to be astounded at the reception we are receiving from local residents. They stand along the sidewalks of each small town, waving and cheering. Some of the farmers just stand there as if they cannot believe what they are seeing speeding through their normally silent environment.

Again the feeling of relaxation was the calm before the storm. As we left Greece, the armed border agents waved us through without incident. As we entered Turkey, we were asked for our passports and waved through immediately. That was too easy. Hundreds of meters ahead, we faced another customs office. We waited patiently in the hot line and left with our stamp, got in our car, and drove to the gate where the guard informed us we needed two more stamps. Two hours and six lines later, we finally had our stamps and drove on an excellent highway toward Istanbul. By then, we were grateful for American efficiency.

We were still sure that we would be in Istanbul early. That was before we met with the Sunday evening traffic on the motorway which was bumper to bumper 5 kph for more than two hours. Several of the rally cars overheated; one had a fire and had to be towed to the hotel. Many people in the group got lost on the way into the city. Driving without our terratrip computer has left us without the accurate to the tenth interval distance ability that we had enjoyed, and we, too missed the important turn after the Golden Horn Bridge and found ourselves crossing the Bosporus Bridge as well. Welcome to Asia a little too early. By now it was nearly midnight. Ed had the brillliant idea of the day. Totally lost in an Asian area of the City, he flagged a cab and we followed it to the Hilton. Brilliant!!! We found that several others in our group had resorted to the same method of arrival.

We checked into the hotel exhausted, and followed the Hilton employee directions to park in front of the hotel. We assumed the parking lot for our group was full, so we followed the directions of three Hilton employees, assured our car would be safe. At 2:45 a.m. we were awakened by a phone call from the front desk that our car had been hit by a bus and would we please come down to move it!! At least they assumed it was driveable, but the phone call was insane at that hour. We told them they had told us to park there and it would be there until morning. Imagine the visions that went through our heads - would we be able to continue with the trip???

May 9, 2000
ISTANBUL, TURKEY

This will be rushed; details will follow. The Hilton left us sitting in the lobby for three hours in the morning while they tried to "sort out" who would pay for the damage. We suggested that they should do that later and just get us a body shop man to do the repairs immediately. Finally, a whole story later, a mechanic arrived, he and Ed drove clear across the city followed by me in a cab. Our cab driver ended up spending the entire day with us. The Turkish mechanics and body repair people are the BEST!!! They spent the whole day on our car and it is perfect. The entire right front fender had been damaged and the rim of the fender was just near the tire and would have prevented proper turning. Throughout the day, we searched for shock absorbers to take as extras. Still none to be found. We did find extra brake shoes to take along. An old man with a 220S sedan tried to sell us his car. He spoke no English, but we were able to ask him if we could buy his front brakes. He disappeared for several moments, then came back smiling. Our cab driver and he engaged in an animated conversation and it became apparent he had found us some brakes clear back in Taksim, the area in the center of Istanbul where we are staying. Back in the cab, but success. Ed says the gentleman who sold us the original brakes from a 220s had spent several years in the UK and spoke perfect English. Ed has been invited back to visit him. All of the conversations during the day were by telephone to Ahmet, the suave head of the local Vintage Sports Club which has helping provide mechanics and body shop repairs for all of our group who needed them (most). All of us leave Istanbul without having savored the tourist sights, but with a lasting gratitude and utter respect for the abilities of the Turkish to take care of cars!

We managed to get back to the hotel in time for the big dinner although we missed the awards ceremony and the video of the past week. Ed still believes Conrad Hilton is turning over in his grave at the inability of the hotel manager to take care of his guests, but we are in perfect shape and ready to go and hope we get off all of these messages this morning before we head east to Bolu. Both of us are looking forward to telling you about the fantastic reception given us bythe Turkish people on the motorway as we entered the city in the big traffic jam described above. We decided to give out pens to the children in the cars next to us, since we were stopped so often. Suddenly, people were letting their kids out of their cars to run to our car to get a pen. Then the traffic would move a few yards, and we were sure a child was going to be hit by a moving car. We feared being held responsible for endangerment! We were in turn given a small bouquet by one local and a pen by another. They love us here and the feelings are returned. I am going to miss my checkin if I go on. More later. Greetings to you all from both of us.

MAY 10, 2000
SAMSUN, TURKEY

Here we are, well into Asia already. We left Istanbul with great success in navigating onto the Bosporus Bridge. Several cars in front of us went straight; my driver actually trusted me enough to turn right when I said it rather loudly and authoritatively. Then I said silent prayers that I had read the sign right. There was the tollbooth at exactly the right moment, a man waving us through, and a loud sigh of relief from the navigator. One of our friends who had gone straight said later in the day that they had a "three day adventure" that morning getting back to the route. Our trip across Turkey has been remarkable. We spent a lovely evening on the shores of a lake at Bolu. We felt it could be any of the lakes in Canada where we have fished for so many years. The Turkish people must be the most hospitable in all of the world. We had a good rest there. Yesterday, the road was lined for nearly three hundred miles with Turkish soldiers, stationed about every hundred yards. Their assignment was evidently to make sure we stayed on the right roads. They are so young! Every young Turk must serve a compulsory two years. We continue to receive blinking lights from approaching cars and trucks, honks of support from nearly every passenger car, and waves and cheers from everyone. At one timecheck yesterday morning, a young teacher brought her entire class of beautiful young high school girls to visit us. She is their English teacher, and she wanted them to practice. She must be very good. The girls had polished grammar, enthusiasm, and we were able to communicate easily. Their enthusiasm for the United States is heartening.

We had hours of high mountain roads yesterday. One of the special "track" sections was a 12.65 kilometer gravel road up the pass to the summit. We were given eight minutes to do it. We were doing so well; then a local white van passed us, slowed down in front of us, and there was no room to pass. Nevertheless, the three minute penalty did not seem too bad.

Yesterday was enjoyable except that we are so worried about our friends Kevin and Mark, our "buddies". Their Mercedes was loaded on a flatbed truck yesterday morning along with a Saab which also has sserious mechanical problems. Kevin and Mark's car had been overheating. They had worked on it for several hours, but the cam was cracked and it became apparent they must go back. We have promised them our prayers (yours, too, please) that the mechanics in Istanbul can work their magic and that Kevin and Mark will come roaring back to meet us at the ferry across the Caspian Sea. They have worked so hard and deserve to be able to continue the trip. Survival of the cars is the major topic of conversation. Those who did the Beijing to Paris keep saying we have seen nothing yet. Except for the dirt road across the mountains last Sunday. That was the single most frightening event of our entire life. I was told at breakfast this morning we were lucky it was night and that we could not see over the cliffs. Evidently that was much worse!!

Turkey is becoming progressively more Asian and definitely more Moslem. There are mosques in every town, the women are covered completely, but the young women, especially the nurses near the hospitals we pass, are dressed in western clothing. Our next update will contain more data of the scenery. The tree covered mountains are breathtaking. We saw snow yesterday, and have had our first view of the Black Sea. It is a mix of turquoise and Mediterranean Blue, but it is far larger than we had imagined. Our hotel here in Samsun has a view of the sea. The hotels even here in the east of Turkey continue to be surprisingly modern and lovely. The staff is hospitable and warm. The food is excellent. We all take rolls and meat and cheese from the morning breakfast buffet because there has not been one day with time enough to stop for lunch! Must go now - we have over six hundred kilometers to reach Trabzon, this evening's stop. We are hoping for some days with no car problems at all. As I write, Ed is out at the car, checking and hoping that we do not have another shock absorber problem. The news came yesterday that rear shock absorbefrs are not available even from Stuttgard for three to four weeks. We will be in Beijing by then!

Please send your prayers and good wishes to Kevin and Mark. We hope that they are already back on the road, catching up with us. We are getting e-mail, so please continue to send it. We look forward to hearing from you!! Happy Birthday, Aunt Billie. To know you are still driving your own car at age 92 is impressive.!! Perhaps you should have come on the trip with us. CIAO!

GREAT NEWS11111111 Ed just came into the room and said that Mark and Kevin are back already. They have not slept at all, but the car is repaired and they are coming with us!!!!!!! We told you the Istanbul mechanics are geniuses. They are waiting to tell us all about their adventure. Off we go; it is just past 7:00 a.m. here.

p.s. As our website alert says, we are still using our regular msn.com e-mail. Gordon and Rita, our website people, are fabulous!! The alert message and photo album were their idea, and we think they are terrific. They post our updates almost as soon as I send them. THANKS, THANKS, THANKS, Gordon and Rita.!!!

MAY 11, 2000

TRABZON, TURKEY

WOW!! Today was an almost perfect day. We were so relieved and thankful to see Kevin and Mark rejoin us so soon. They found in Istanbul that they would be able to repair the car once parts were found. As Kevin explained it, a faulty thermostat blew their head gasket. When Kevin repaired it, there was one vital step which was not in the shop manual, and the parts that hold the cam shaft in place were damaged, and there were cracks. After the flatbed truck ride back to Istanbul sitting inside their car on the flatbed, they found that, fortunately, there was no problem inside the engine. The Istanbul mechanics finally found the necessary parts at 8:00 p.m. last night, the Mercedes Benz people stayed late, fixed the problem, and Kevin and Mark were on their way back to Samsun at 10:30 p.m. last night. They drove through the night and arrived before 7:00 a.m. this morning. That alone made our day, but the best was yet to come.

Yesterday's drive was beautiful. The Black Sea is described by Ed as one huge flat mirror. Barely a ripple even on such a large body of water. Villages too small to be on most maps were charming. Exotic. Names such as Yakatent and Sagukan are next to Venice (Turkey), each just a postage stamp size. As we said, the area continues to become more Islam - the calls to prayers late yesterday could be heard as we sped along. The reception of the Turkish people is so enthusiastic that we fear hitting a pedestrian. One of our group actually did bump a young high school girl who jumped into the street. Fortunately, he was going less than 8 mph. Still scary. We share the roads with tractors, cows, fairly fancy petrol stations, and drivers who think if the road is two lane, they can make it four to six. All of the trucks are driven at least twenty miles an hour faster than is safe. The size of the stones and marble in them makes weight on the road a true problem. Last night's hotel in Bolu was the Buyuk Samsun Hotel, a lovely, gracious building with a fine restaurant, excellent rooms and amenities. The only problem was the charge for last night's phone calls to connect to the internet. They could not grasp the concept that I did not believe I should have to pay for the calls which did not go through and which did not connect. It finally became easier just not to argue. They are so disarmingly pleasant and polite that I was almost happy to pay the exorbitant amount rather than upset them.

Back to this morning! We actually did not leave until 9:05 a.m. which gave us time to get the top down and ready to take off immediately when our time control signed our card. Five and a half hours time to our next check and only 347 km seemed easy to accomplish. That was before we ran into more trucks than I-10 or I-90 or I-5 could possibly accommodate, and ours was only a "dual carriageway" which means one lane each way! Curving just next to the Black Sea, the scenery was splendid, that is, what we dared look at when glancing away from the trucks on the road. The "horn" greetings from buses, trucks, and cars, are constant. Well-uniformed, spotlessly clean school children line the highways waving to us and cheering. We are perfecting the "royal wave". The soldiers with guns line the highways - they are called the Gendarma, and we are still unclear whether they are indeed Army or local police, but the "poliz" wear navy blue, and the young men on the road are in full camoflauge! We had our first experience of hesitation about the rifles they hold proudly in their arms. The yellow Morgan in our group is a fast car with a fast driver. Soon after he bombed through a small village fairly early this morning, we found ourselves behind a white van loaded with six or seven young men with the blue lights flashing and their arms waving madly through the rear window that we must not pass them. We decided that discretion is still the better part of valor. The fading memories of Midnight Express are still in our minds. Each time we tried to pass, they pulled into the left lane and waved at us to get behind them. Soon there was a line of our group's cars behind us, obviously impatient and sure that we were dawdling. The "gulls", the girls from Australia and New Zealand who are the only all-woman team on our rally, passed us and tried to pass the van. They too were motioned to get back in line. On and on it went, for over an hour, with an increasing number of our cars made to stay in line. Finally, the brightly painted 48 Pontiac convertible, simply ignored them and went past. Finally, we were able to go more than thirty miles an hour!

A convertible is perfect for today's sun and temperature. Ed is wearing the hat given to him by Ray Carr, a great gentleman of 75 who is driving the 39 Ford Convertible on our trip. He is in the Guinness Book of World Records for some previous driving trips he has done, and he is a great guy. The hat he gave Ed has a picture of the 39 Ford on it. I of course have the Tilly hat which reminds me of sailing days. The biggest difference between this trip and our days on Moonshadow is that we always longed for the moment when we would turn off the engine and hear only the silence. In this race, the lack of engine sound is dreaded by all. The Black Sea was pure turquoise today. The seaside town of Unye was the first of many resort towns along the way. Turkey has left little beach when building its main highways through this area. The road is literally right by the sea. The small cove of fishing boats in Unye is a photographer's dream. We had our video camera mounted on the roll bar as we drove along, but the spectators along the highway were taking morepictures of us than we were of them. The resort towns of Persembe, Ordu, and Pirazaz went by quickly, and we entered Giresun and Tirebolu before making our important right turn to Dogankent and our next time control. We made it with minutes to spare and waited patiently to make sure we did not check in early and incur double penalties. We did go through some new tunnels under construction along the way. Never have we seen such dark tunnels, and one turned sharply to the right just after we entered it. We were all lucky no one crashed.

We are in the mountains again! The steep slopes and villages remind us of Switzerland, and there is still snow on the peaks. Karacukur was beautiful, but our favorite has to be Kirazlik. Green terraced steep hillsides, a swift green river at the bottom of the deep gorge with plenty of white water visible. Today has to be the biggest geographical surprise of our lives. We had no idea this would be such a splendid mountain area. We are in the Black Sea Mountains. We drive up to nearly 6000 feet, again on steep grades with no guard rails. In some ways, it reminds us of Kerala in southern India. The steep hillsides and the green and the lush vegetation are similar. There are tea plantations, hazelnuts, corn, tobacco, and anchovy from the sea in this part of Turkey.

Back to the race. For today's special section from Dogankent to Zigani Gecidi, we are given ten minutes to do 16.6 kilometers. The road turns out to be dirt, gravel, hairpin turns, steep, first and second gear all the way. At the hairpin turn marked in the roadbook as "DO NOT MISS" , we find not only an impossible turn but an entire group of village schoolchildren wildly cheering us on, but standing right in the way where a turn would have been at least a little easier. This is early retirement, folks. We arrived at the checkpoint eight minutes late, still worrying that the road may have done in another shock absorber (I am learning to hate those two words), but were elated to be told that ours was the second fastest time. Of course, those "Slow Blokes to China", Chris and Ron, had done it with only seven minutes penalty. Nevertheless, those were our only penalties of the day, and everything was so beautiful, and we drove to Trabzon, tonight's stay, sure that we would be there in plenty of time. Momentary lapse of concentration as we navigated the last half kilometer to the hotel in the middle of downtown traffic - suddenly Ed saw Ron jump out of the car in front of us with his roadbook in hand, just .15 from the hotel and parking garage. A quick look at our stopwatch and I too jumped out of the car with book in hand and literally ran the half block to the hotel and up the marble staircase to the control desk and slapped down the book. We were in time! The stares of the well dressed guests on more proper tours have ceased to embarrass us.

The dust and dirt today amazed us. Fortunately, the Zorlu Grand Hotel is lovely - marble, stained glass, excellent buffet restaurant. grand marble staircase. The city of Trabzon has only been in existence since 1924 when Turkey become a modern nation under Ataturk. His photo hangs everywhere! We went for a long walk before dinner, then came up early to savor the memories of a glorious day. The car is running well and we know this will be the last real comfortable hotel we will see for some time. Ed's arms are tired from driving such steep roads with such tortuous turns. You may think we are exaggerating - wait until you see the videos. We have proof.

Our roadbook for tomorrow is brief: "The beginning of a transit day to the border of Georgia. This section follows the coast road all they way. You will have assistance with your border crossing - be patient". Of course, that is "our" strong suit, isn't it? If you don't hear from us for a couple of days, do not worry. We behave very patiently at borders, especially near the famous Georgia Military Highway and Stalin's birthplace. Our adventure is just that, and the bonus is getting to know all the people who travel with us. They are fabulous.....

THURSDAY EVENING, MAY 11, 2000

TRABZON, TURKEY

Our arrival in town was highly visible. We were stuck in a monumental traffic jam and I was busy navigating the final right turn; Ed saw Ron jump out of his car in front of us with his book in hand; I realized we had just three minutes to be on time, so I jumped out too, ran to the hotel, up the curving marble stair case and threw down my book just in time. I may be repeating the last update, but it was one of my better runs, and I want credit.. Ed managed to get into the tight quarters of the auto-park across from the hotel which is the secure parking for our rally cars for tonight. We are staying in the Zorlu Grand Hotel, and it is indeed rather grand. The marble and the architecture are both intricate and simple at once, and the curving marble staircase is superb! Signage from the garage to the lobby was lacking, and there were many dazed eyes as people finally made it to the registration desk.

The first order of business after checkin is always a shower. The dust and dirt pour off in unbelievable amounts. Even after a shower, a towel (washcloths are non-existent) rub will take off even more dirt. Clean and reasonably well dressed, we took a walk before sunset. Trabzon is a young city, the streets crowded with a young, enthusiastic, fast-moving group of citizens in thoroughly westernized clothing. Even the Muslim women in their traditional covered clothing often have blazer and skirt combinations which, despite the loose fit and long length, are quite fashionable. Trabzon is the transportation hub of northeast Turkey and is quite attractive and prosperous. Evidently it is most often full of Russian tourists who account for the buying at the fairly fashionable boutiques which line the street and arcade near our hotel. Just blocks away from the hotel, the atmosphere changes considerabl to a much lower economic level. Trabzon is a new city, created only in 1924 when Ataturk brought Turkey to its independence. He is the George Washington of Turkey and his picture still hangs everywhere. Near the hotel, however, are LaCoste, Polo, Cacheret, Sony and other recognizable big city boutiques.

Excellent dinner in the hotel and a comfortable room. We keep on going and appreciating each good room before the comfort ends. Our 8 minute run on the special section left us in good position today! Few cars did as well. We even had two minutes on Kevin and Mark (sorry, guys - now I know you will be gunning for us on the next special section), but I had to mention it for Kate and Tess and Michael to know their grandparents are still trying hard!) Our dinner conversation each evening touches upon the moment when we will have to make the decision to keep the car going at all costs and penalties, but the roads of the special sections are so beautiful, and we hate to miss them, so we continue for now to try to avoid all penalties. By the way, one update was incorrect. Hans and Annique, our Swiss neurosurgeon friend and his wife, are still checking in at each time control. They are saving their Overland Willys but are continuing to make all the checkpoints even if late. By the way, Ralph and Jody, if you are happening to read our updates, Hans Reinhardt is evidently also the developer and manufacturere of equipment used for micro-surgery, so Ralph may have used his inventions!

Tomorrow is our border crossing into Georgia.

FRIDAY, MAY 12, 2000

TRABZON, TURKEY TO BATUMI, GEORGIA

By the time we got out of the garage this morning, we were wearing the bicycle masks we purchased in London to keep from being overcome by the carbon monoxide. The drivers had been instructed to remain in the cars and leave in order from Car 1 on, as soon as the navigator came down with the timecheck book stamped and ready to go. The problem was that with all the engines running and drivers jockeying for position in spite of the request of numerical departure, the fumes were dreadful. In addition, the ramp up to the street was so steep that some cars were dragging and had to back down and try again.

Finally, we are on our way, and we are on the same straight road for over one hundred kilometres. Never mind the heavy road construction and overloaded construction trucks. We go straight on the same road toward Rize and beyond for over a hundred kilometres, and it is a joy to sightsee and take video photographs instead of reading tulip directions and hairpin turns every five kilometers. The overloaded trucks are ruining the highways even as they build them, but the newly finished sections are excellent and the entire area is full of progress. We go from excellent new concrete to dust and potholes every few sections, and the dust is thick enough to thoroughly obscure vision, much the same as bad fog!

The Black Sea continues to amaze us by its sheer size! The highway is so close to it that it leaves little room for recreationable beaches, but the coves in some of the resort towns are charming, soft sand and colorful fishing boats, and a photographer's dream.

The Rally organization has been busy issuing warnings today. Matt Smith, M.D., the rally doctor, went from table to table at breakfast this morning, reminding us all that from now on, tap water should not be used even on a toothbrush; nothing but peeled fruit that we peel ourselves, no salads, all of the same warnings we have used in Mexico and India and South America, but sterner! The other warning, in all capital letters, warns of possible delays at the Georgian border at which we must be very patient!

The schoolchildren have all been given notice of our arrival, because they and their teachers line the roads, cheering and waving. They are in spotless uniforms and are absolutely beautiful. They are all calling greetings in English, and we give them pens whenever we are close enough. We are shocked at the number of adults who ask for pens, too. We have not yet needed to give away the extra tee shirts which Craig had made and sent along with us as "solid gold" gifts. For one reason, Ed seems to need a clean one each day, so we are pleased that many of them are 2XL. We are honking our horn all day long in response to the horn greetings from about every third car. Even the truck drivers flash their lights at us as they drive past and scare the hell out of us with their airhorns as we fear we are running into someone.

Finally we are at the Turkish border, ready for departure. Passports and car documents in hand, I head confidently and swiftly toward the short line, as Ed's excellent driving has led to our arrival with perhaps the first ten cars of the day. We are sure we will be at the hotel very early. Next come the six longest minutes of my trip. I who can find a ten year old piece of paper in the office or at home in a few seconds, suddenly cannot locate the exit documents for the car without which we will probably not be allowed to go into Georgia. Going through everything, my heart is pounding - I have given up my place in line rather than admit to the officials that I am without the papers. My driver is quite calm although he does suggest that I do not say a word while I search. Ed saves me by pulling the papers out of the Insurance Documents Envelope which I had carefully placed in the pouch behind my passenger seat because they did not fit it in the smaller passport document folder nor in the title and registration document folder. (When we had finished the two and a half hour, hot,dusty, smoky procedure at customs when we entered Turkey last week, I had carefully placed the exit documents in the insurance document envelope on the back of the seat just so that I would not forget where they were!) "Border Anxiety" is not a joke. We have been so thoroughly warned that I think most of us are not acting as calm as we normally do.

We leave Turkey with an "OMATAI" , our term for a place we hope to return. It was taught us by Minerva, a grand old San Francisco lady we met on our trip to the Straits of Magellan. We have used it ever since, and Turkey deserves it! The people, the food, the history, and, surprising to us, even Turkey is scenic beyond belief even to the Eastern border. We had no idea the Black Sea Mountains were so vast, nor that we would go up and down them so much. There is so much to be explored, and we felt safe and secure. Northern California, Switzerland, Canada, all wrapped up together in one country!

On into Georgia and our biggest border surprise ever. At first, we thought we were in for the long haul. Heavy gates allowed just five or six cars into the next area at a time. However, instead of the bureaucratic nonsense we had expected, we were greeted with smiles and waves of welcome. An English speaking young man explained we would have just two windows to check in, I was presented a fresh red long-stemmed rose, we were through customs in less than ten minutes. Nevertheless, "Border Anxiety" was evident. One usually unflappable driver was asked for his car number and dropped several pieces of paper as he looked for something he thought they wanted. All they wanted was the rally number painted on the side of the car, but until he understood that, he was far from calm. The man in front of me in line left his passport at the window in his haste to return to his car and be on the road again. During all this, Ed is able to sit in our car and have a few minutes peace and quiet from all the concentration and muscle strength that driving these roads takes. In addition, he was interviewed at length by the local television crew and was able to express his admiration for Edvard Shevernadze and his gratitude toward the latter's efforts for world peace. We wish we could have watched the local news, because they were with Ed for at least ten minutes and were sincerely interested in what he was saying. Actually, he looked really cool as they asked him question after question. He may be the new star of Georgian television. Surely there will be scores of young boys with our pens who will see Ed on the news and tell their parents, "That is the American who gave me the pen". The Georgians are showing us an unexpectedly generous welcome!

Georgia is the home of the Golden Fleece, of Jason and the Argonauts. It is an ancient Christian kingdom. It is full of history, and is incredibly beautiful. The locals tell the story that when God created the world and gave out the nations, he was not yet omniscient. The Georgians were out drinking and did not get their allocation of land. They flattered God that they had been drinking to his health, and he rewarded them with the land he had been keeping for himself, the most beautiful spot of all, Georgia. (Apologies to religious education - this is legend and myth). By the way, the name Georgia was given to the nation by one of its conquerors who noted that they were excellent farmers and thus gave the country its name for the word farmer in that language. If I had free internet access from here, I would check which conqueror.

Our drive into Georgia is filled with mixed emotions. The years of Communism and the Cold War have left their mark on our consciousness. Surely we never expected we would actually visit. Irony of ironies, the rally headquarters hotel at Batumi is full when we arrive, so we are assigned to the SPUTNIK HOTEL. Rather than being located along the rather beautiful promenade along the Black Sea, we are driven by van about four miles straight up the hill to an isolated location. The entire area is evidence that all of the Soviet money for decades went to the military and to space programs rather than to maintenance and construction of infrastructure for its citizens. The area around the hotel and the exterior of the hotel itself force us to remind ourselves we are here for adventure, not for luxury. Inside is not quite as bad, although the first room we were to be in cannot be used because it is being redone and there is not even drywall inside. Our room is spartan, but there is hot water! Most of the hotels do not have that. In addition, most of them are filled with refugees from the Abkhazian conflict (southern Georgia area which is trying for independence). Our Hotel Sputnik does have a small restaurant and bar, and we find many of our friends have also been assigned here. We have just "lost" another two hours, so we have two hours before our bus arrives at the hotel to take us back down to town for tonight's festive dinner which is to feature the President of Adjaria, a region of Georgia which also maintains it is an autonomous republic. Evidently this leader is widely respected in Batumi, so we have all been asked to stand in respect when he arrives. Somehow we manage to be presentable in clean clothes. Ed chooses this event to reinforce his California presence. He wears the Tommy Bahama shirt which Liz gave him for his birthday, and he looks great. We are able to wander through town before the banquet, and sit on a bench in front of the Black Sea. This could be a truly splendid city. The Georgian architecture in some spots is lovely if faded. The vines covering the terraces are beautiful. The Intourist Hotel itself has lovely chandeliers and ceilings, but the atmosphere is cold and faded. The tables are set in a lovely ballroom, and it is immediately apparent that the Georgians have pulled out all the stops to give us a memorable evening in this room.

We will skip the food of the evening. There were good sized portions and the service was lovely. The arrival of the President was memorable. Accompanied by a fairly large entourage, he walked along the length of the ballroom, past our tables to the head table, smiling and waving and obviously happy to see us all there. The toasts were long and involved; both he and another official whose title escapes me, toasted their rich Adjarian heritage, the children of the future, peace, their guests, and many others. Each of the speeches and toasts was then translated by a young man with excellent English. Then the program began. A young girl, only fourteen, sang in English, "A Time for Us" from West Side Story. Next came a young, beautiful edition of Edith Piaf. She was followed by a young beauty who was the object of much male admiration and comment. She sang, (surprise) , "My Heart Will Go One" from Titanic. The sound system was loud enough that all could hear easily. A young twelve year old boy resplendent in white tie and tails sang "La Bamba" - shades of Mario Lanza and Caruso. Young dancers did traditional Georgian folk dances, and a group of ten year olds did the Cha Cha Cha and had people cheering. They are so young and so intent on pleasing us. Throughout the program, we watched a group of Georgian men on the balcony above, sitting at tables, and obviously strong, sturdy men. A few people remarked they were fairly "rough looking" characters, but we were interested in what on earth they were doing there.

Suddenly, after a few more speeches and toasts, the men on the upper balcony stood up from their tables, stood in line, and began to sing. Our spines literally tingled. The sound went straight to the soul. The power and strength and harmony dazzled every single one of us. At the end of what was a long and evidently traditional Georgian piece, we gave them a cheering, standing ovation, and shouts for "more", many "bravo's", and a few German "ja-wohls" Clearly pleased, they continued with several more songs, and were eventually joined by one of our rally members, an Italian who is traveling with the man from the Emirates, and who himself has a splendid voice. There is a mournful depth to the emotion as these men sing. No one who heard them will ever forget them.

It was getting late, and the toasts continued. In addition, we knew we could not be polite and leave before "His Excellency", the President, departed. So we sat, smiling and thinking of our early morning departure. Philip Young, our rally director, was introduced as Paul Young, so he went forward to cheers for "Paul, Paul" from all of us. He was resplendent in a blue blazer and tie hastily borrowed from Richard at our table. It might have been seen as a sign of disrespect had Philip appeared at the head table in a sport shirt and slacks. The photographers and journalists were everywhere! Believe it or not, this is apparently a major event for Batumi. We have been given a reception worthy of royalty. One observation of the evening - how do they manage to recruit "secret service" agents all around the world who look and move exactly alike. They must have a world-wide training video or something. Ed says they all seem to grow the same little white thing out of their ear! After we discussed this phenomenon at length during the evening, Victor, sitting next to me at dinner, leaned down and said "...and politicians the world over, as well....." Absolutely! Hugh and Victor are driving a Morris Minor. They are polished, well mannered and extremely cordial travel mates. They have told us that as we pass them each morning, they say when they see us coming in the rear view mirrow, "Here comes the California Cabriolet". Victor is well traveled, tall, handsome, and sophisticated. He is a native Nigerian and was head of Johnson Wax in Africa, Europe, and India, and now divides his time betweven England and Nigeria. Victor and Hugh are neighbors, and his middle child and Hugh's daughter are good friends, and it was Victor who invited Hugh on this trip. Hugh accepted immediately but when Victor saw the look on Hugh's wife's face, Victor suggested that perhaps Hugh should take the weekend to consider. Here they are and the entire rally is the better for their presence. Richard and Elizabeth, our other dinner mates, are driving a vintage Bentley and are wonderful! She is a classic English beauty and a childhood friend of Hugh. Chris and Ron, the "Slow Blokes to China" added wit to the evening, and Chris was the one to take the initiative to offer a toast from all of us to the Georgians. They had asked earlier that we do so, but there seemed to be an uncertainty among us, so we were pleased that Chris did it! Philip Young asked that we all be in our cars in the parking lot at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow. We do not know if he was serious or if he was at least trying to bring the evening to an earlier conclusion. because the first car is not scheduled to depart until 8. Even though we were all enjoying every moment, tomorrow is a long day. Some people left, but we knew we must wait for the President's departure. Finally, he took leave after a few more sincere remarks to us, and we followed him out. Our van ride back to the hotel was full of one way streets and dead ends. One Brit quipped from the rear of the van at one particularly remote dead end, ..."My wife has all the money..." Actually, we felt safe and secure. One of our van drivers is a Professor of Pharmacology who drives the van on the side. Apparently, monthly incomes here hover around $ 40 (US) per month, and jobs are scarce. We become increasingly aware of what privileged lives we Americans lead, not only monetarily, but in terms of opportunity and freedom. What an evening! We are more aware than ever before of the ridiculousness of war! The fervence of the toast to peace was remarkable. The President was absolutely correct when he toasted the children, whom he referred to as Adjaria's future! Batumi deserves accolades for its hospitality.

Good day all around - no penalty points at all!

SATURDAY, MAY 13, 2000

BATUMI TO TBILISI

We realized when we checked into the Sheraton Matechi Palace Hotel that we have been so concentrated on the rally that we truly were not sure what day of the week it is today. We will remember today as the Day of the Potholes. Gigantic and often crossing half the width of the road, The road book for today advises "Care for your Tyres". with exclamation points. That is impossible if one expects to drive on the roads! One of the highlights of today's drive was the River Dzvrilla. The village of Khureve between the hills was exquisite.

Our drive past the village of Gori brought us a feeling of disbelief that we were actually viewing the birthplace of Joseph Stalin. We learned that was not his original name, but Stalin meant "man of steel" in Russian, and that became the name the world would know him by. Of all the despots of history, he seems to us one of the worst. He purged and slaughtered his own countrymen for no other reason than that they opposed him. "Uncle Joe" was an ally in WWII, but he was a villain, nonetheless. Roosevelt and then Truman and Churchill of course knew better than to trust him.

Tbilisi itself is a city of over a million. A river runs through it, trees line the main roads, and the architecture is worthy of much study. Beautiful traditional buildings, some which reflect both the Muslim and Mongol invasions of past centuries, many Roman influences, and of course, large massive buildings ordered built by Stalin in the early years of this century. We arrived mid-afternoon, just two minutes ahead of our required timecheck. Whew!! An unexpected "detour" into a neighborhood by the hotel had threatened our penalty free day. Hooray for us. The Sheraton Matechti Palace Hotel sits high on a hillside just about ten minutes walk from the center of town, but eons away in luxury. Less than two years old, it is the only new building in the city, and it was built by an American company. Shades of John Portman Atlanta architecture, the rooms face a five story open lobby. Marble, open elevators, rooms facing an elegant lobby, piano player playing American music throughout the day and at formal afternoon tea time, this is not what we expected in this part of the world!! We are savoring the comfort and room service and easy internet access because we received a three page summary of what we may expect in the next few days, especially on the ferry on the fourteen hour crossing of the Caspian Sea. We have been advised to take our own sheets or sleeping bags, our own food, toilet paper, liquids, and we have also been advised we will not be able to stay in our cars, which is what we had planned to do. It will be a unique adventure. We hope for good weather!!

We decided to take a good long afternoon nap and luxuriated in the uncommon time off. We doubt we will ever take such naps for granted! We had a late dinner downstairs, an excellent buffet. Each day we meet new members of our traveling group. There are no visible cliques, everyone is uniformly interesting and amazingly well behaved considering all the highway passing and jostling for position that occurs. There are some serious racers here.

SUNDAY, MAY 14, 2000

What an unusual Mother's Day. I realize how blessed I have been, first with a truly outstanding mother, then with two loving, truly outstanding, healthy and happy children who have made me very proud from the day each was born. We may be a world apart today but we are together! Our day has definitely not been a Sunday brunch. The luxury Sheraton Hotel has a full garage with hoists and everything for car repairs. Cars from our rally group were in the "queue" even before opening time. We were fortunate! The rear schock absorbers which came from Stuttgart turned out to be for the rear of our car, even though we had been told they would not be available for three to four weeks. Thanks to Tom and Maria Noor's courier, they arrived early this morning. Ed had already gone down to work on the car before tomorrow's 5:30 a.m. departure, so I was carrying two heavy shock absorbers through the Sheraton lobby - I told people they were my weight-lifting items. The smile on Ed's face when he saw them was joyful. The only problem was that no mechanic was available, so he installed his own shock absorbers. He says he has not done that for 45 years! I have great video of the car in the air and a grease-covered husband working too hard, but we are thrilled to have the job done. He had help at the very last moment to compress the springs, and the car is ready to go tomorrow. Peter Benham, the rally mechanic, and our friend from the Eurobell photo team were both helping him. We have been bouncing over the big potholes! It is amazing to watch trial lawyers, dentists, neurosurgeons, Oxford and Cambridge graduates, lying under their cars working as mechanics. There is a camaraderie and cooperation that is making this rally memorable. It is "one for all and all for one" until it comes to passing to get to a time control on time. Then the competitive spirit blossoms. Ed spent an additional three hours doing maintenance, cleaning the interior, and making sure the car is perfect for the next difficult days. We are still trying to lighten the car.

This afternoon we did take time off to take a bus tour of the city of Tbilisi, although the scope of the tour was limited to just the central section of the city. The results of the Civil War from the beginning of this decade are all too apparent. Small boutiques are often in buildings that are otherwise empty and unrepaired since the war. The former President who was in office after Georgia became independent from the Soviet Union in 1991 was wildly popular at first, a University professor from a widely respected Georgian family. He was however a bad manager and even his friends evenually came to oppose him. He left Georgia, and eventually committed suicide. It was then that Edvard Shevernadze returned to Georgia and has managed to stop the fighting and is restoring a semblance of economic stability. Even so, the current unemployment rate of men in Georgia is forty per cent, the average wage $40 U.S. per month. I know I am repeating myself, but as we heard the guide reinforce what we had already learned, it hit us again how government can fail its own people.

We toured churches dating back to the fourth century. In one twelfth century church, a baby was being baptized. There is a heavy emphasis on Christianity here in Tbilisi. The Communist years are visible only in the decaying condition of the beautiful buildings! There is a heavy influence of culture here; one in two, according to our guide, has some University experience. Poets, writers, artists, musicians, are held in high esteem.Tbilisi has several "pantheons" in the city, graveyard memorialsto the nations' poets, artists, etc. We love the Georgian people, but there are some pretty sad cases sitting outside the tourist stops, especially the churches, begging and hoping to be paid for being photographed. In one church, a nun came up to us and asked if we could help a child who was sitting on a bench in the chapel with her mother and grandmother. The child was ghostly white and limp, without expression in her sad eyes. I asked the nun if we could get a doctor; she indicated no, that money would help. We gave enough that we hope can help and said prayers for the child. At least we know they can eat for a while and perhaps get medical care as well. Ed passed out dozens of 5lira notes to old lady pensioners who blessed him. That amount of money can easily feed each one for a month. All of these donations are infinitesimal in relation to their needs. The pensioners have not been paid for years, but they have recently installed a new commissioner with good credentials to resolve their tax revenue source problems. The young Mafia with their cell phones and their big German cars irritate us as much as they did in Vladivostock.

They too are stealing from their own people. One of the requirements of education in Tbilisi is the learning of a foreign language. Our guide said that a language is taught if the country is a neighbor, an ally, or an enemy. Russian is required because Russia is, at one time or another, always one of the three, but never sure which one. The Georgians all go out of their way to make sure we do not view them as Russians. The effects of all the invasions over the centuries are visible in their language. Their word for hello contains a reference to war and their word for goodbye translates to "Victory".

There is a "Georgian Evening" banquet tonight, but many of us are opting to pack our cars and be ready for tomorrow's long day. We will do our next website whenever we find a hotel with access. Meanwhile, we keep you all in our hearts and minds as we travel. Your messages and encouragement mean more than you know. By the way, thanks for all the Mother's Day good wishes. Jessie, a special greeting to you. Karen said your party was superb. We had planned to call during the party, but the timing was impossible. We will see the pictures when we return, and we will show you ours. "Mother Brice," this is your day, too!!!!

The brilliant sunshine of the morning has given way to wind and rain, which accounts for the length of this update. We will not see internet access for a while, so we send you our love. Time to pack.

MONDAY, MAY 15, 2000

"....Swiftly fly the days....." We are up early this morning. Car Number 1 leaves at 5:31 a.m. Although we are Car 48, because of the cars which left us in Istanbul and because a few others have dropped out because of problems, our "starting position" is now 35, meaning that every morning we start 35 minutes after hypothetical Car 0. We are grateful that we had the good sense to stay "home" last night, pack the car, check out, and do all the mundane preparations that we sometimes wish could be done by elves! The luxury of the Sheraton Hotel here is particularly hard to square with the fact that most Tbilisi residents have electricity for only two hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon. Georgia is such a perplexing country. Naturally beautiful, there is nevertheless a feeling that the neglect of buildings, public welfare, and so forth is simply inexpicable. Ed reminded me that at the rally headquarters hotel, the Intourist, ours was the first breakfast which had been served in the hotel since 1991! We did not even bother to walk up all the stairs to see if there was breakfast served in our Sputnik Hotel. We knew there would not be any. At least we had hot water. All in all, except for location, we were probably lucky to be in the Sputnik.

Our first glance at today's total kilometres left us aghast - 1161.45. Closer examination showed that the total was for two days, both the trip to the Caspian Sea ferry and the 575 km from the ferry to our hotel for the following night. The schedule was evidently made because of the legendary unpredictability of the ferry schedule. Everyone was prompt this morning. In fact, several of the older cars took penalty minutes and left early just to be sure to make the ferry. It is not quite light at our departure. There are many tired eyes, as the mechanics dealt with car problems in the garage until nearly midnight. The weather is gray and rain is falling lightly. The roads are so full of potholes that our Terratrip zeroes out constantly and is of little use. We have found that the most accurate measurement we have is the forty-three year old dashboard speedometer and tripmeter, both of which are in miles. A nightly task is converting the entire left column of the roadbook, the total distance at each interval, so that the column reads miles as well as kilometres. We share the road this morning with carts, cows, geese, and classic peasants. Ed observes that much of what we are seeing this morning must be similar to life in the U.S. in the 1750's. The faces, the hats, the carts, how we long to stop to photgraph them properly. Instead, we drive as fast as possible, which is not very fast because of the roads, because our Road Book says clearly: "Please be aware if you are not on the ferry this evening the rally moves on without you". Surprising how that makes all of us "behave".

Although we are still getting honks and thumbs up and waves, this morning the people seem less and less able to comprehend what is happening as the rally comes through their villages. We see faces almost with comprehension, miles of few smiles, an air of almost total resignation. The old people especially seem out of another century, and the clothing, posture, and expression are classic peasant. Miles of men sitting along a road which could be improved by themselves with a few shovelfuls of dirt. There seems no entrepeneurial spirit in this section of Georgia at all. The natural beauty of the area continues to capture our attention, but we are somehow sad for the people here. The centuries of invasions and bloodshed seem to have taken a toll upon the citizens which is sad. There is an apparent sense of resignation in the citizenry in this area which is sad.

Suddenly the border is approaching. We will be in Azerbaijan before noon! The first thing we notice at the border is that only one car comes from Azerbaijan into Georgia the whole time we are waiting, and zero trucks. People are apparently not flocking to Georgia from the east. The entire atmosphere changes once we are easily through Customs with smiles, welcomes, and a warm atmosphere. We see our first enthusiastic response of the day from the local residents. The road is an actual highway, and perhaps we will not be battered around as we were coming out of Georgia. The lush green of the trees which canopy over the highway is the green of Ireland and New Zealand, and of course the Brits are reminded of England. We see our first highway sign to Baku, although the alphabet here makes it recognizable only by the fact there are four letters and there is a B and a K. The trees continue to dominate the landscape for many miles. There is little big development here. No buildings, just undeveloped land and trees. An amazing phenomenon after a border crossing. Here we are, seventy-one cars (down from 101 by attrition and by those who left the rally in Istanbul), all together at the border, then, after the crossing, we are so spread out that we are often relieved to see one another if for no other reason than a feeling that indeed we are on the correct road.

Azerbaijan is full of activity. These citizens do not sit and stand along the road looking lost. They are doing things! It is still misty and cold, there are water buffalo and other animals along the road, but there is despondent attitude here. Fields are properly maintained; clean, painted bridges show good maintenance, attractive people greet us enthusiastically; we see the first golf club we have seen on the trip in the hand of a boy on the side of the road. All signs say to Baku, so we are able to enjoy the scenery for a while. Three hundred sixty-seven km. from the hotel to the first time control - a long haul this morning. What a pleasant surprise awaits us at Cokchai. The time control desk is in an AZ petrol station and cafe. There are real toilets instead of the holes in the floor which were in the stations in Georgia. They are spotless. The station attendants are dressed in suits, several English speaking Azerbaijanis help us not only with the fuel but with changing some dollars to "manats", the local currency. Snacks are plentiful, and the control desk has been set up for us with a lovely tablecloth and fresh flowers! Unfortunately, we have just a few minutes here to check in and drive on. We are taking no chances on missing the ferry. The next time control is in Baku, the city from which the ferry will depart and the city which was featured on the Discovery channel a few months ago and which was described by them and by Asia Overland as an "elegant" city. Our entrance into the city and our first several hours there leave us wondering what is elegant about it.

We go to the "Motodrom" where we must wait for two hours before we are led by police convoy to the port to board the ferry. The two hours would have been pleasant at the AZ petrol station. Here at the abandoned go-cart dirt "motodrom" we have ice cream bars and beverages for sale, but the wait is less than enjoyable. Many are still working out last minute car problems! Waiting in the parking area for our mandatory police escorts to the port and the ferry, I am finally able to meet the two young Swiss men who are driving a 1965 Mustang Convertible on the rally! We have an excellent conversation discussing all of the considerable advantages of the car, but I am glad that mine is safely at home in the garage at Indian Wells. Time to refect on Azerbaijan.

Until now, it was just another CNN news spot about which we knew very little except that Christiane Amanpour had a delightful way of saying her name and Azerbaijan at the end of her reports of the battles there seven or eight years ago. It is a country wrapped in the poetry, culture, and hospitality of the Caucausus. Oil boom and oil money has transformed Baku into a thriving port city although we never did see any of the good spots. The terrible earthquake of 1988 left battered ruins, but there are beautiful, unspoiled forests, mountains, deserts, and mud volcanoes. There are "chimera", flames leaping spontaneously from the ground. There is a town called Neftyany Kamni, which is built on stilts in the Caspian Sea (and which we are determined to see from the ferry before it gets dark). There are sturgeon farms, and the caviar is reported to be excellent. There is an oil rig building plant just off of Baku at Gobustan. Supposedly there are "massive steel silhouettes which make modern art of the skyline", but we have not seen them yet. Azerbaijan has 7.8 million people, oil, gas, silk, and caviar as major exports. Azeris form 90% of the population, Dagestanis 3.2%, Russian 25% and Armenians 2%. The "blood fued" is with Armenia, which is mainly Christian while Azerbaijan is 83% Muslim, mostly Shi'ite. It has been invaded by Arab caliphs in the 7th century, by Persia (Iran) in the 16th century when it then became a province of Persia. Independence in 1918, then in 1920 invaded by the Red Army when it then became a member of the USSR. In 1990, the Soviets massacred hundreds of people in Baku. In 1991 Azerbaijan gained formal independence.

The police escort to the port is a welcome addition to me! There were four pages of instructions just for the 11.7 kms from the motrodome to the port. the busy 5:00 traffic would have been bad enough but the drivers here are crazy. They did not even pay attention to the "convoy" and broke in several times before realizing what was happening. The 11.7 kms expanded to 17 as the escort took us a roundabout way which included the Russian embassy but not the downtown area. We have been told so many scare stories about the dreadful condition of the ferry that we are all apprehensive. At first, we are pleasantly surprised. The decks look fairly well maintained and the crew friendly and efficient. We are loaded without too much delay and climb the three steep staircases to find our cabin assignments. Not all of us will have cabins. Some will have airline style seats, others just space on the floor. We see our names assigned to Cabin 20. Good start. Then Ron, one of our "Slow Blokes to China" mentions something about how I am going to feel about sleeping with him and Chris tonight. Since he is always joshing about something, I pay little attention until we realize that indeed we have been assigned four to a cabin, with only group shower rooms and toilets. We laugh, say we are adaptable, and all four of us put our gear into Cabin 20. I decide Scarlett O'Hara was right - I will think about it tomorrow. The experience will be good for the website.

We are able to go clear up to the top deck of the ferry and film the departure. The turquoise of the Caspian Sea and the mountains are lovely, and we think this may not be as bad a trip as we have been warned. The crew is so friendly and we have the entire boat just for our rally. There is a restaurant and bar, and the cabins have linens on them which are plain but look clean. Even the toilets don't look too bad until we find out they do not flush. Oh, well! The food being prepared for our dinner looks acceptable, and soon the restaurant is full. We decide to park ourselves in the airline style chairs with a window and are already thinking we may end up sleeping in them instead of with our friends. Then comes Ron, asking if I want the good news or the bad news first. Of course, I want the good news - he says they have managed to buy an empty cabin and that we will have Cabin 20 to ourselves. Afraid they are just being polite, I insist of seeing the room they have managed to purchase (by the way, the bad news is that I owe them $12.50). Up one deck and lo and behold, they are telling the truth. In fact, they have bought the Captain's cabin, so they have their own toilet and basin and two beds in separate areas as well as a huge chart table. These blokes are crafty fellows. They are so pleased with their accommodations that they do not even want the $ 12.50!

We are invited to a birthday party in the area of the airline sitting. Claude Picasso turns 53 today. As he rightfully points out, this is a much more memorable atmosphere than a similar party in a stuffy hotel. His co-driver and navigator Sylvie is a charming and thoughtful french woman who took good care of everyone there. The story of the evening (unverified but such a good story that I must include it) is that Claude overslept in the Sheraton in Tbilisi this morning and went down to the time control desk with only a towel and his pink book in order to avoid penalties. Supposedly he told the staff member at the desk that it was his birthday and the staff member remarked that he was appropriately dressed in his birthday suit. Such stories and rumors are simply that. I intend to find out if this is true.

MAY 15, 2000 (FERRY FROM BAKU TO TURKMENBASHI)

The dire warnings about the condition of the ferry were exaggerated except for the condition of the bathrooms. They do not seem to have people in this part of the world who know how to fix toilets, so they leave them alone for years. None of them on the entire ferry flushed! Oh well, the cabin was comfortable and we had it to ourselves for a very long, very needed sleep. We awoke to sunshine and smooth water, but the ferry was running on just one engine. The rumor was that the captain was running on one engine to save fuel. It was surprising that when it was time to dock, both engines were fully operable. The crossing was uneventful, and of course we enjoyed being on the water! The speed was just about that of Moonshadow.During the entire crossing, we were thinking about the oil below the Caspian Sea, the potential for the future. A recurring argument in the region is if the Caspian Sea is a sea or a lake. If it is deemed to be a lake, then ALL bordering countries share revenue from oil, gas, etc. That would have damaging economic effects on Azerbaijan. They are counting on big income from the $ 7.4 billion dollar "deal of the century" signed by the consortium of western oil companies. Many believe Azerbaijan will benefit by USA aid as the oil deal outweighs our loyalty to Armenia (and its strong lobby in DC).

Azerbaijan's economy depends upon oil, gas, silk, and caviar. The whole country is wrapped in the poetry, culture, and hospitality of the Caucausus. There are earthquake battered ruins, beautiful forests, mountains, deserts, and mud volcanoes, and "chimera" (flames leaping spontaneously from the ground). We had hoped to see Neftyamy Kamni, the town of 6000 people built on stilts in the Caspian Sea. We are sure that we saw the lights! There are many sturgeon farms, a huge oil rig building plant off Baku at Gobustan. We did not see them, but they are supposedly "massive steel silhouettes which make modern art of the skyline".

The Azerbaijanis made us most welcome on the ferry. This is traditional hospitality of the country. There are 7.8 million here. Of those, 90% are Azerveri, 3.2$ Dagestani, 2.5% Russian and 2% Armenian. There is still a blood feud with Armenia, and the borders between the countries are closed. 83% of Azerbaijanis are Shi'ite Muslim. (Armenia is Christian). Before we came here to visit, our knowledge of the country was limited to CNN. We can still hear Christiane Amanpour reporting from there about eight years ago and hearing her beautiful ending to her reports: "Christiane Amanpour, Azerbaijan". Now here we are! The country has an amazing history: in the 7th century, it was invaded by the Arab caliphs. In the 16th century, it was invaded by Persia and became a Persian province. In 1918 it became independent, but was then invaded by the Red Army and became a Soviet republic of the USSR. In 1990 the Soviets massacred hundreds of people in Baku, but in 1991 Azerbaijan finally gained its formal independence. Don't know the details of the war with Armenia, but we are told that 20% of Azerbaijan is still controlled by Armenia today, and the borders are "firmly shut".

The fourteen hour ferry crossing has been accomplished in about sixteen hours, which is quite good, and the weather was excellent. We rather enjoyed the journey. Then we arrived in port and began the customs process in Turkmenistan.

MAY 16, 2000 TURKMENBASHI TO ASHKABAD

We were all hoping for a swift customs process at the dock so that we could be on our way - the drive today is 575.70 kilometres, about 351 miles. That was not to be. We waited on the ferry dock (patiently, I might add; we have been told about the police here). We knew there was to be a "spraying process" of the cars during customs. We did not know the lady in charge of the process was out to lunch. Seventy-one cars waited until she returned, donned her white uniform and came on to the dock with a small sprayer which she used slowly on all four wheels of each car, ten at a time. The rest of us cooled our heels in our cars; one thoughtful rally participant was playing a good Beatles album, which at least helped a little.

We do not know why, but Car 74, a couple from Argentina, were waved back on to the dock instead of out the gate. The front end of their car, a Mercedes, is covered with duct tape to hold on the front grill, etc. They have had bad luck! They are the ones who hit Kevin and Mark in the Sunday night debacle across the mountain at night in Greece. The Argentines had extensive damage to their front end which was perfectly repaired in Istanbul. This time they hit a calf (not a car, the driver points out). The damage will not be prepared as quickly this time. We heard this is their third "encounter" on this trip. One of our fellow travelers is chuckling about the old Tom Lehrer song about the hunters, and game wardens, and the purebred Guernsey cows.

We were finally on our way about 5:30 local time, for what we hoped would be only a five hour drive. We expected little oncoming traffic but were greeted with 5:00 traffic of buses and trucks trying to outdo each other in belching black smoke. We did see a Marathon bus, one of the ones made along Highway 5 in Oregon! We are out of the port town quickly and as we drive, we are amazed at the similarities to the Palm Springs area before and without golf courses. The mountains resemble the Little San Bernandinos, the desert plants are similar shapes and sizes. There the similarities end. These roads have no true edge on the right side of the road. No matter, the drive is quite enjoyable. Just at twilight, I have my arm out the window and am hit by what at first seems like rain. Then we realize it is not rain, it is a horde of black bugs which leave a mud like covering on the windshield (and my bare arm). The covering is so thick that we cannot see through the windshield. All of us had to stop at least once to clean the windshield because the windshield wipers were useless. As darkness increased, we learned something about Turkmenistan drivers. There is no gentlemen's agreement to dim lights as one approaches. We expected little traffic going the opposite way, but we were wrong! There were hundreds of trucks and cars which used full beams all the way. No lights on the two lane highway (No "dual carriageways" here. The right edge of the highway was not clearly defined, and Ed found the drive difficult just to see! Again, there were no other rally cars in sight, and since there were no town names or highway numbers, everyone was hoping the left fork they had taken was the correct one. We were positive we were on the right road, but just in case, we did stop along the road and ask two Turkmen: "Ashkabad??? pointing in the direction we were going. They smiled broadly and said yes. We did not smile broadly but at least breathed easier. Our uncertainty was increased by the fact that a city name and an archway we were to pass under simply were not on our route. They had been removed since the roadbook was prepared. A daytime drive to Ashkabad would have been a piece of cake - after a sixteen hour ferry trip and the customs delays, a night drive was more difficult.When we passed the "Turkmenistan Jean Company at 568.55 total kms. we knew we were close to shower and bed. We were fortunate!! A new roundabout made all the final roadbook instructions unusable. The orange arrows put up by the rally organization as aids because of the new layout of the roundabout were removed by local kids. We found the sports stadium and parking lot on our first try but several others took as much as an hour driving all over town until they found us. Tonight was one of the nights when we did not park at the hotel. Instead, we had secure parking at a type of "Kingdome" and took buses to the hotel. Again, we were lucky. We were in the rally headquarters hotel close to the parking, so we would be able to go to and from our car easily. By the time we entered our hotel, we were ready for a shower and bed immediately.

May 17, 2000 ASHKABAD, TURKMENISTAN

Up early the next morning - what a surprise we have had. Ashkabad, the capital of Turkmenistan, is full of architectural surprises. The president, "elected" by over ninety per cent of the people "for life" is not what we would call modest. His picture is everywhere, on the money, in every public place, store, wherever you are. In some of the portraits, his hair is gray, in others, a dark brown or black. We assumed the gray haired pictures were the most recent. Not so. Whatever one's feeling about his dictatorship, one must admire the buildings he has added to the skyline of this city. There is a huge statue in the center of town near the presidential palace and Congress. On the top is a gold statue of guess who -- the statue revolves so that the president is always facing the sun! We consider that real attention to detail. In addition, there is a gold statue on the top of a memorial adjacent - that is of the president as a boy! He has been on a building program which boggles the mind. The presidential palace is splendid, the gardents extensive and formal; the compound covers several blocks. The library, the largest in the country, is nearby and is truly beautiful. The highlight of the architecture in this area is the tower. It makes the Space Needle seem drab indeed. Marble, brass, beautiful observation decks over the whole city, it was built in a short time but is stunning! When we thought we could not be impressed any further, our driver took us to the newest shopping center in town, built for the year 2000, with a five or six story exterior waterfall which is one of the most impressive architectural elements we have ever seen. Inside the shopping center are a large supermarket as well as the traditional type stores. On the upper level are cafes and a real bowling alley with human pinsetters. We had lunch there with our driver and Steve and Chris, two neat Brits who are driving a vintage Rolls Royce. The others at lunch were fashionably dressed, and the kids were eating pizza! We will never forget that in the middle of a desert country with a serious water problem, and where bread was rationed as little as two years ago, the splendor of the buildings is a little difficult to understand. In spite of this, we must admit we really were impressed. People who have been in Dubai found certain similarities. The lush trees all over Ashkabad added to its beauty.

The Sheraton Hotel did not win friends and influence people. Water was six dollars a bottle and wine about $40. We were good citizens and changed our money at the local bank. Other more daring friends used the black market exchangers and received as much as 17,000 manat per US. dollar.!! We have found everyone wants American dollars. After I paid for a quickly purchased long loose skirt in American dollars, our guide informed me I could have been arrested and so could the clerks. In fact, he said he could report the transaction and the clerks would be heavily fined. I don't know if he was trying to be important, but I didn't use dollars for the rest of the day. No use finding out how these thousands of police keep busy.

No big car maintenance today, just some general cleanup. We had one of our best photo shoot of the entire trip when we walked from the hotel to the parking lot. Ed found an old bearded man in a jacket loaded with Soviet war medals who was proud to pose for him. Several Muslim women were having an elaborate tea ceremoney on a large platform bedlike "couch" just off the sidewalk. The girls and the women here are absolutely gorgeous. Tall, long legged, and slender beyond belief. We have not seen such a concentration of beauty in any other country. It will be interesting to see how many rolls of film Ed uses here.

Tonight was a dinner given by Philip Young for all the participants of the rally. Local entertainment and traditional dinner. We were seated mext to the British Ambassador to Turkmenistan, Fraser Jones and his wife Janet who were the honored guests. They were delightful dinner companions. Both are extremely attractive, bright, well-mannered, interesting, and just plain nice people. He was by far the most down to earth and sensible diplomat we have come across. Britain is most fortunate to have them in the foreign service. None of us had known this was to be a special dinner, so all of our dress was very casual. Fraser was impeccably dressed in blue blazer, shirt and tie (and trousers, of course). When he was announced as honored guest and speaker for the evening, he showed great class. He quickly and invisibly removed his jacket and headed for the stage. Consideration of others is the hallmark not only of a diplomat but a gentleman, and he is both. Even after staying at the dinner quite late, he and Janet came down to the parking lot to bid all of us a safe trip. We hope we will see them again one day. They did admit that when they heard our group was coming and what we were doing, they thought we might all be a bit mad (the British term for insane, not angry, 2nd and 4th graders).

We will remember Ashkabad as a city of contrasts, but of great beauty and friendly people. We are still being cheered as we arrive and as we leave.

MAY 18, 2000

ASHKABAD TO CHARDZOU. TURKMENISTAN

We have been warned that we will be "camping" tonight. Nevertheless, we begin the day rested and eager to begin. Ed installs a slick new expansion tank for the radiator. It is simply an empty two liter oil can.and piece of hose. (Good "surgical nurse" that I am, I even helped by threading the hose up for him while he was lying under the car. New skills each day.) The purpose is to recycle the overflow water from the radiator when the radiator is low. There is a vacuum created by the hose on the bottom. It makes our radiator just like new modern ones. Ed did this in just fifteen minutes. Starting early, we are quite proud of ourselves getting out of town. The rally cars making u-turns and going different directions resembles the Keystone cops. Where we are to turn right, there is gravel, and a work crew has installed plastic ribbon "barricades". Nearly everyone gives up and goes straight. Literal people that we are, Mary and David Laing in their Aston Martin and the Suhrbiers insist on turning right. The young man finally lowers the barricade, and we are rewarded with being on the correct road to Mary. You have to be here to know the good feeling that gives us.

We breeze down the highway past Yaslyk to a petrol station which we have carefully marked, since they will be few and far between today. We do not care for the grubby appearance of the station but have been told the petrol is the same at all stations, so we fill up. We breeze down the highway, confident this day will be one of the easier ones. The false feeling of security lasted about five miles. The steady and ominous backfire brought a look of disbelief to both our faces. Oh, no. Bad fuel. We limped to the side of the road with barely any power. Ed lay under the car draining fuel into an empty water bottle. Sure enough, a few drops of water. We drained more of the "bad fuel" out, and started up again. Two miles perfect, thank goodness. Then again that ominous backfire and stopped again. This time Ed decided it must be a fuel pump, so again he is a mechanic, installing the spare fuel pump that we carry. Again, we are on our way at full power. Then there is no power and the look on his face is enough for me to know we have a serious problem. This time, nothing works. He is on his back in the hot sun. As I study the maps, I see we are broken down on the highway at the exact point where the highway is the closest to the Iranian border. This is not the best of locations for American citizens. Ed wonders aloud about the possibility of mustard gas.

We have several offers of help from passing Turkmenistan people, but the language barrier is too much of a deterrent to allow mechanical aid here. Kevin and Mark come by, stop, offer moral support, but we send them on because there is nothing they can do. Finally, the nice guys in the 65 Mustang stop and tell us that Tony and the "sweep car" are less than ten minutes behind them. This at least gives encouragement. By now, Ed is looking for a leak in the fuel line. Tony, our excellent mechanic who used to race Mercedes, finally arrives. He and Ed analyze the problem while the sun gets hotter and hotter. The bad fuel, the backfiring, the new fuel pump had all exacerbated a leak which had started as a result of a twisted and finally broken fuel line. We needed a fuel line splice, which was accomplished by Ed and Tony. The entire ordeal was about an hour and a half. By the way, we did need and use the 14 Allen Key which took us so much effort to find! We were on our way again. One scary "chug, chug" , then pure smooth driving and some quick calculations which showed that even with the delay we might reach the time control in time.