Solo Wilderness Ski Expedition

Few places in this world are without wifi and mobile signal, Lapland (arctic Norway, Finland and Sweden) is one of them. My expedition was solo. Heading off into the isolated tundra and mountains, the only inhabitants pockets of Sami reindeer herders. I skied through approximately 800kms of Europe's last wilderness. It would've be nice to go further afield, but this is right on our doorstep. No expensive permits, nor long haul flights. It's just leaving home and then being immersed in silent ice. Or not so silent. This nature is full of birds, moose, reindeer, even wolverine. And the howl of the wind. May was full of blizzards and cracking ice. I imagined that as time drove, the weather would improve. Not so. Winter raged on, and visibility remained limited. When the world opened up, frozen lakes extended for Swedish miles or huge mountains ringed national parks.

The only company other than wild animals was the occasional snow mobile or dog team. Otherwise I traipsed on, pulling a laden pulk. Inside my sledge was everything I needed to survive: multiple maps (I used the old school method of map compass), tent, stove to melt snow for water, food, down clothing and headtorch. By May, the nights became short. Occasionally I skied long days until 3am or overnight and although I often preferred not to use a torch, it also proved useful for tricky navigation.

If you would like to learn more, see what I'm up to now or invite me to come and speak, please contact me through Explorers Connect. 

Scientific Exploration Society Awards Scheme

It is a commonly held misconception that the days of the great exploratory expeditions are over. Programmes such as the SES Award Scheme are vital to fuel the efforts of young explorers, to facilitate the projects of the next generation of expedition leaders, and to continue the long and proud British tradition of stepping off the map.

Monty Halls The Scientific Exploration Society Awards Scheme is intended to offer support to an innovative individual who has put together a team and a plan for an expedition for scientific research. He or she should share the pioneering commitment of Col John Blashford-Snell OBE, by inspiring other people to go on and do great things.

Applications are invited by 1st December and by 1st August each year, and grants are generally of 500,sponsored awards may be higher, please see website for fulldetails: www.ses-explore.org/awards

Retracing the footsteps of Isabella Bird in 1889

Isabella Bird is the fourth early female explorer that I have retraced the journey of and filmed. I shall begin writing book shortly but am keen to recreate the journeys of Florence Baker in Uganda and Kate Marsden riding across Siberia as part of it.

The Isabella Bird expedition went very well and she was such a good choice her 1889 journey is documented in detail in her book and it was so interesting to follow her journey through such an unchanged landscape into Nubra. Ladakh is stunning and the mountains appear to float majestically above the valleys that I passed and as the going got tougher our lovely team that consisted of 7 ponies and a Tibetan refugee pony man, two young Nepalese cooks and a Ladakhi guide who had so much experience were there to make the going easier, (the hardest part was climbing to 5,400m up a glacier!). I was so thrilled to have found the palace in Hundar described in her book although it had sunk a floor into the ground and I have written a report about it for the Indian Archaeological Department so that it can be saved.

I met the Rev Gergan whose family once owned it but did not know where it was and it was his great, great grandfather who had escorted Isabella into the Nubra valley all those years ago and his front garden that she had pitched her enormous tent in Leh to recover from the long Yak ride back. It only left the audience with the King of Ladakh to organise, which she had done as she left....and I had my wish and got a ten minute audience with him at the Stok Palace. Our stories matched at that point, room with carpets, fresh apricots and apple juice served, the Gyalpo hardly spoke.

So I think I became Isabella Bird by the end! I shall be talking about this journey at The Galley Wine Bar at 133 Hotwells Road in Bristol at 7.30 on Friday 26th October in aid of The Stroke Association and everyone is welcome. "

Getting Taken for a Ride

I'm always amazed when I run safety workshops and ask how many of the audience wear a seat belt when getting into a vehicle in their home country. Without fail everyone raises their hand and some even look at me as if I have just asked a rather stupid question. However, when I ask the same group how many of them wear a seat belt when they travel abroad, fewer than half raise a hand and when I ask how many refuse to travel in a vehicle that isn't equipped with seat belts I'm often on my own.

So why is it that when we travel we no longer feel the need to protect and preserve our own safety? This, despite the fact that in many cases the countries we are travelling to have lower standards of road safety and higher rates of road fatalities than our home countries. Perhaps its the perception that because we are abroad and we often associate this with a positive experience that we lower our guard. Or maybe we view poorer safety standards as being part of the romance of travel.

A when in Rome mindset perhaps. If you think this is just another safety expert having a moan, don't take my word for it, have a look at the stats from the World Health Organisation; Road traffic crashes kill 1.2 million people a year or an average of 3242 people every day. Road traffic crashes injure or disable between 20 million and 50 million people a year. Road traffic crashes account for 2.1% of all deaths globally. The majority of deaths from road traffic crashes (90%) occur in low and middle-income countries. Many of these are the same countries that, we as western tourists and business people, travel to. One of the issues we have is that despite greater awareness about vehicle safety the problem is actually getting worse rather than better.

According to the Burden of Global Disease the outlook is not good and the situation is only going to get worse. In 2004 road traffic crashes were responsible for 1,274,845 deaths globally, making it 9th in the list of causes of death. By 2030 it is predicted that it will rise to 5th and overtake diseases such as cancer, diabetes, hypertensive heart disease and HIV/AIDS. So, whats the solution? In many respects this lies with us. If, as travellers, we continue to accept poor quality ill-equipped vehicles driven by unqualified drivers, who exceed, or ignore speed limits then we are asking for trouble. If, on the other hand, we insist that tour operators and ground agents provide good quality, well maintained vehicles with fitted seat belts and qualified drivers who are adequately rested and not under the influence of drink or drugs, then we are taking steps to decrease the risk.

You wouldn't get into a cab or bus at home if it had bald tyres, no seat belts and the driver smelt of alcohol, so why do it when we are abroad? The problem is that it takes courage to turn away an unsuitable vehicle or driver, because we are concerned about insulting people or being disrespectful. These would seem like pretty feeble reasons if you find yourself in a foreign hospital or worse. On more than one occasion as an expedition leader I have refused vehicles or drivers on safety grounds, and yes, it has at times made me very unpopular. However, I would rather deal with unpopularity than the aftermath of a vehicle crash. As a former police officer I have seen the results of vehicle crashes and trust me, its not a good look. The more people who take a stand and refuse to put their lives in danger by using poor quality drivers and vehicles the sooner the message will start to filter through. Especially when it starts to affect peoples livelihoods. I have seen this in other aspects of expedition safety, where rogue operators go out of business once they are unable to meet the safety requirements and expectations of the paying customer. Its also about education and many people in developing countries simply haven't had the benefit of the training in road safety that we take for granted.

Be under no illusion, seat belts save lives. Fact! However, it some countries this seems to be systematically ignored. A study in Kenya showed that 99% of those injured in vehicle crashes were not wearing seat belts, despite it being law for drivers and front seat passengers to do so. Its not just a case of those in the front seats wearing seat belts either. When travelling in buses it only takes one person not wearing a seat belt to become a human missile. Consider this. A person travelling in a car moving at 30 miles per hour is also travelling at the same speed. If the vehicle suddenly stops (as happens in a crash) the person will still be moving inside the car at the same speed and will continue to do so until something (the steering wheel, dashboard, windshield......... another passenger) stops them. They would hit these objects in the same manner as he/she would hit the pavement falling from a 3-storey building. Being hit by a fellow passenger who weighs say 170 pounds and travelling inside a vehicle going at 60 miles per hour at the time of impact is not ever going to have a positive outcome.

Therefore, everyone travelling in multi-person vehicles has a responsibility to themselves and their fellow passengers to wear a seat belt, but its only through awareness that this message is going to get through. I have worked for a number of organisations who train their drivers not to turn the ignition key until everyone is wearing a seat belt. It is a very simple technique and it doesn't take long for the message to sink in. Its not just cars and buses that we need to be thinking about. Many travellers think nothing of renting a motorcycle or moped when abroad. Yet these machines are responsible for a disproportionate number of tourist deaths every year. According to the British Foreign and Commonwealth Office, 38 people a day die in motorcycle crashes in Thailand alone. That's nearly 14,000 people a year using only one mode of transport in just one country.

There are times in life where we don't have choices, but when it comes to transport and travel we often do and these choices could quite literally make the difference between life and death. Yes, tour operators and employers have a moral responsibility for our safety, but they are often governed by the bottom line. Ultimately, it is up to us as individuals to ensure they comply to the highest levels of safety and if they don't shouldn't travel with them. At the very least you owe it to yourself to speak up and demand safe transportation.

www.lloydfiggins.com

Kukri Adventure Scholarship

Hi,

I just wanted to give you a heads up on the Kukri Adventure Schoalrship. We have 20,000 fund to give to people who are taking part in an adventure next year, the only criteria are:- You must be over 18 when you start your adventure - You must be starting in 2013- You must be based in the UK or Ireland- You can't be taking part in an organised event. To enter all you need to do initially is make a 2 minute video of why you think you should get some or all of the funding and post it on the KAStab of www.facebook.com/kukrieventsWe have an expert panel to judge the video's and advise the winners including, Mark Beaumont, Sarah Outen and Ken Hames. Your trip can be doing anything, running, climbing, flying, sailing swimming, driving, riding etc. We don't want to hold your inventiveness back so go for it.

Along with the prize money you will also receive Kukri kit, PR support, website social media and technical support. If you get a scholarship place we want to give you every chance of success in your adventure.

The official launch isn't until 8th October so you members of Explorers Connect are getting a head start!For more information go to http://www.kukrievents.com/events/kukri-adventure-scholarship/Good luckCrispin(MDKukri Events)

San Agustin 2013: Sistema Huautla established as the deepest cave in the Western Hemisphere

Sistema Huautla established as the deepest cave in the Western Hemisphere after a 7 week long caving and diving expedition featuringmore than 40 cave explorers.

Short summary of the expedition: Caving began on Tuesday 26th February. Thanks to a strong team within one week the cave was rigged to sump 1, camp 3 established and Jason Mallinson had relined sump 1 and 2. After another week the rest of the diving, exploration, beyond sump supplies and the four dry tubes were ready at the sump so that a team of 5 divers could spend one week exploring. Jason went through and set up camp 6 on Monday 11th March. The following day the rest of the divers made their way through sump 1 and 2. In total 6 dry tubes worth of gear was dived through with each of the three rebreather divers making two dives. A total of 6 dives were made in sump 9 between Jason Mallinson and Chris Jewell. On the first dive Jason reached -30m in poor visibility. On the next dive Chris reached -48m before ascending to surface in a static pool after 250m. A muddy ascending tube was followed for around 30m.

On the third dive Jason returned to this section with some rope but all passages closed down. Next Chris and Jason dived together with each diver on opposite sides of the passage in an attempt to find the main underwater continuation. Jason found a tunnel leading off the left hand wall which both divers followed down to -60m before surveying out. The final dive was made by Jason who followed this tunnel down to -81m which was the limit of the trimix being used. The final dive reached a point 440m into sump 9. Meanwhile the rest of the team (Mirek Kopertowski, Jon Lillestolen and Rich Hudson) were busy looking for dry passages. The Rio Iglesia waterfall was found to choke after a short distance and short sections of cave were surveyed in Perseverance hall and shortly before the low airspace swim. However long extensions were discovered leading from the back of the sump 9 chamber. These extensions followed the trend of Adams Avenue and in places dropped back down into known cave. In total 1,774m of dry passages were surveyed but no bypass to sump 9 discovered.

One mystery does remain however, when on the last day an undescended pitch was reached. Appearances suggested this would drop into known cave and the team was short of time and rigging gear so it was left. However when we plotted the survey data this pitch was going into new territory. Whilst the diving team was beyond the sumps they were in touch with the rest of the cavers at camp 3 by Nicola radio and teams took it in turns to stay at camp 3 and monitor the radio twice a day. During this period the route up to Anthrodite hall was. On Monday 18th March the diving team returned to camp 3 and a day was spent hauling kit from the sump before most people headed to the surface for some rest. During the following week (week 4) most of the diving kit was carried out of the cave and at the same time photos and videos taken.

Week 5 saw the arrival of our de-rig team and whilst they were getting ready to camp the rest of the diving kit came out. One final camping trip saw the cave de-rigged to the 620 depot. After that several long day trips during week 6 de-rigged the cave completely. In total we estimate that something like 30bags of diving/exploration kit (average weight of 16kg per bag) were carried in and out of the cave.

Thanks to a strong support team of more than 30 cavers from the UK, Canada, US and Mexico all this was accomplished quickly and efficiently. Thanks to our sponsors for making this happen and thanks to the local people who have made us feel very welcome.

More info - www.facebook.com/CaveDive andwww.cdg-exped.org

Sunrise on Mount Sinai

Sunrise on Mount Sinai Nestled within the southern part of the Sinai Peninsular, Mount Sinai offers an exhilarating climb which rewards you at the summit with some truly amazing views of this mountainous desert region of Egypt. Moses Mountain, as its called in Arabic, stands at 2285 metres and is said to be the place where God passed to Moses The Ten Commandments.

Mt Sinai is seldom the primary reason why one might fly to Egypt, but if you find yourself travelling around the Red Sea, it makes a great day, or more appropriately night side trip. Whilst the climb can be done at any part of the day, the majority of people decide to make the ascent at night in time to watch the sunrise from the summit. Most visitors arrive by organized tours, these are frequent, cheap and by far the simplest way of reaching the start point. Virtually all hotels and camps will be able to organize this. The foot of Mt Sinai can be reached in two hours from Dahab, an additional hour is required if travelling from Sharm El Shiekh. We prefer Dahab's laid back charm to Sharm so thats' where we set out from.The usual course of action will start with a pick up around 11pm, when youll be whisked away through the night desert in what ever mode of motorized transportation your host has acquired for the 2 hour journey.

Arrival time at the foot of the mountain should normally be 1am. The base of the mountain is a hub of activity with traders, shop-keeps and camels handlers all biding for your attention. Here visitors are introduced to their Bedouin guide. Hell explain the biblical significance of the mountain and go over some safety tips. This will also be your last chance to use a toilet for a few hours. Your guide will briskly take lead as you start to climb the mountain, ascending in the dark is truly a surreal experience. With the absence of any electricity and light pollution, the stars truly come to life, meteorites skim the atmosphere, constellations become defined, and the Milky Way twinkles brightly. The sheer beauty of the night sky is best enjoyed while resting, as its best to keep your eyes and touch on your feet while you climb the rocky path to the summit.

When you're not admiring the night sky, you'll be able to see enormous dark shadows which will start to resemble the neighbouring mountains and slow moving beams of flash lights from the hikers below. The gradient of the track frequently changes, there'll be parts where it climbs steadily and others where it zig-zags past steep walls. The route is littered with make shift shacks which sell refreshments and snacks. At higher altitudes close to the summit, these shacks rent out blankets and mattresses as it can get very cold before sunrise. The last such shack or tea house stands just before the final push to the summit begins. This is also where the camel tours dismount. Oh yes if you're not one for putting in the hard work, you can arrange for a camel or donkey to take you most of the way, but be warned riding a camel for a few hours should not be taken lightly. Here you must take the final 750 steep steps up to the summit. The entire climb takes about three hours, here the wind blows fresh and the temperature can truly get crisp so if you haven't brought some extra layers to keep you warm, its well worth renting a blanket. At the summit you'll find a few brave souls who have slept there in anticipation of the morning sun. Most parties arrive well over an hour before sunrise, this maximises your chances of find that perfect spot where you can await sunrise. The summit is home to a small Greek Orthodox Chapel (closed to the public) and a small Mosque still used by locals. The nature of this sacred place means that it attracts members of the Jewish, Christian and Islamic faiths and one can quite often see people reciting ancient texts, praying and singing hymns as the sunrise. Finally, the bell of the chapel breaks the sound of the wind. This signals the official time of sunrise. One day there may be applause, the next a chorus of hymns. How the crowd at the summit react to the start of the day is often as unpredictable as how a day will unfold. As the sun rises into the clear sky, you start to see the shadows fade away as the surrounding peaks start to turn different shades of red and orange. Eventually, its time to make the return journey. Walking back down the 750 steps is necessary, back to the last shack and return your blanket if youve rented one. Now you have to find possible routes back down to normality.

You can now take the same route as you came up and take in the view this time in daylight, or a greatly steeper route aptly named the Steps of Penitence. As the sun rises, so will the heat so if youd rather descend at a faster pace (and many do) aim for the luxury of a shade; the 3750 steps may be more appropriate. The definition of steps is a quite loose, almost as loose as the actual rocks that youll be traversing down, but it is the shorter and more direct route which eventually take you to the Saint Catharines Monastery at the Base of the mountain. Famed as the oldest working monastery in the world and dating back to the 6th century (at this particular location). The grounds are open to the public to use the facilities and purchase refreshments. The actual monastery building opens its doors at 9am, meaning for those wanting to take a look inside, you'll have an hour or so wait, depending on how long its taken you to arrive from the summit.

Groups are allowed to enter every few minutes after listening to a priest explain that taking pictures, talking and making any noise is strictly prohibited. Frankly, unless you have a particular interest in the field, missing a trip through the monastery is no great loss. However, most organised trips factor the monastery in as part of the trip. If you're on such a tour, if you descend quickly from the mountain, you'll have to wait for the monastery to open, be spoken to like a child, be rushed through and then find your transport back at around 10am arriving back in Dahab two hours later. The cost of this entire excursion, including transport, the guide, entrance to the mountain (which by extension to the nature reserve) and entrance to the monastery can be obtained for 120 EL (12). If you're not interested in entering Saint Catherines Monastery you can get this reduced, but be sure that the pick up arrives at a more appropriate time. This is a very fine yet demanding fete, partly the physical effort needed and partly concentration needed in the night part of the climb. When you get back to the shores of the red sea after a sleepless night, you'll have earned a relaxing holiday that most tourists come here for.

Prepare It should go without saying that good walking footwear is essential. Ideally carry a backpack with layers of clothing. It will get very cold at night particularly when waiting for the sun to rise at the summit. However, upon returning, the temperatures increase dramatically. Take a bottle of water and bring your wallet as you can replenish your supplies in the many shacks up the mountain.

Finally, and surprising often neglected by many visitors, if climbing by night, BRING A TORCH. Need to Know There's no need to follow the stereotypical itinerary outlined in the article. If you'd rather have the summit to yourself, you can climb up during daytime and watch a sunset instead and descend at night. Or if you can take the daytime heat, climb and descend in a day. Its worth emphasizing that Mt Sinaiis not the highest mountain in Egypt, neighbouring Mount Catherine with its peak at 2,629 metres is.

www.doinitonline.com

The Murmansk Challenge

"Exploring our arctic regions can evoke assumptions of expense, precision preparation, and lengthy expeditions through snow-torn landscape utilising equipment reserved for the specialist. The reality is that Europes share of the Arctic Circle is quite accessible throughout the summer months.

The sun shines 24 hours each day, and temperatures can reach 12 degrees Celsius, meaning that the region can be reached even by the fool-hardy. From the people who brought you the Banjul Rally comes the spin-off event: introducing the Murmansk Rally, where amateur adventurists take to some of Europes most northerly and remote roads. Preparation can and that's not to say it should be kept to a minimum. In fact, the only necessary prep work is to obtain a Russian Visa if you're planning on going the full length. Our adventure starts a day behind the official start date (thus behind the rest of the teams). The major benefit to travel with other cars in a convoy of sorts is the security (or perceived security). Should you break down, friendly faces are available for help, moral support, and even a lift.

For us the first leg of the journey was actually from London to Prague by plane to pick up our chosen rally carone wed left with a mechanic six months earlier on an ill-fated rally attempt, buts that's another story. The K (1995) Reg Vauxhall Astra 1.8 diesel rolls out of a storage unit behind the airport, its red bonnet emerging from a black cloud of smoke churning in the confined space. Luckily, it started on the first go! We load up and within minutes head off on our arctic adventure. Of course, the first point of call is a petrol station, and not far off the Western suburb of Prague, we pull in for a quick service. We fill up the tank, check the oil, tire pressure, top up the water in the coolant-tank, pay the attendant, and hastily pull out of there, gaining speed on the single county road. Suddenly, we hear something flying off the car and see a flicker of something in the dark in the wing mirror. Quickly we realise what I had done: Id placed the cap for the coolant tank on the roof. Ops! Breaks are quickly applied, followed by hazard lights as myself and my co-driver jump out. Theres no cap in sight. It must have bounced off the tarmac into the ditch, or into the soft verge overgrown with vegetation. Wearing shorts, I wade through the stinging nettles along the roadside. After about 45 minutes of searching, enduring honks from the traffic flying by and narrowly avoiding being struck, we make the decision to cut our losses.

We leave, deciding to risk driving without the coolant cap and hoping all the liquid within doesnt evaporate before we can find a solution. Nervously driving along, keeping an eye on the temperature gauge, we drive through a town where we luckily find the Czech equivalent to a Halfords store that is able to sell us a replacement. Finally easing into our journey as we race (obeying the speed limits at all times) up north through the Czech Republic, conscious that the last ferry departing Poland for Sweden leaves in eight hours time. The journey is a pleasant one as the Czech motorway twists and turns, passing through the mountainous region of the Sudetenlands before the gradient levels out and we pass into Germany. Enjoying the renowned German motorways, we pass signs for Dresden and, a few hours later, Berlin. Hours of continual driving fly by and as the sun sets, we pass the standard blue EU sign welcoming us to Poland, it and the change of the roads surface serving as the only indication that weve passed into another country.

As darkness starts to set theres little to report back on the scenery here, so I just concentrate on getting us on the ship on time. We pull into the Polish ferry port in the town of Swinoujsci with 15 minutes to spare and purchase our tickets (approx. 170euro - one way for one car + two people). Finally we can relax: it has been an exhausting yet exhilarating day. The ferry crosses the Baltic Sea overnight, taking about eight hours. The ferries are very much what youd expect crossing the English Channel. Cabins are available, but as were on a tight budget we do what so many around us do: lie on the floor in our sleeping bags between a row of seats, crack open small cans of Czech beer, and toast our travel to date before trying to squeeze into an appropriate sleeping position and finally get some shut eye. The ships tanoi makes an announcement in a language I assume to be Swedish, with a further assumption that we have arrived as the next day beginsat 6 AM. We roll out of the ferryour hostel for the nightand drive out of port, map in hand, and ready for adventure.

George my co-driver (who hasnt driven a car in the ten years since he passed his testand I have no intention of changing that during this trip!) assures me he knows which direction to head and the number of the road we need to take. Relatively easily, he navigates us out of town (with the help of plentiful road signs) and onward towards Stockholm! The Swedish motorways are good to us. Theres no traffic, and the roads are well-surfaced with pleasant, green-rolling scenery broken only by a lake. Still a day behind any other British bangers, were loath to stop and actually experience any of this, our feet on the ground only to fill up at a petrol station, check the oil, water, and again almost driving off with the caps on the roof! Hours fly by as the motorway bypasses Stockholm and we see the city skyline, church spires piercing though the urbanity of it all. Here, we joke that its our last chance to come to our senses and board a low cast airline home. Hours of driving fly by, fuelled by determination to make good time along Swedens coastline at the Gulf of Bothnia. The view is almost uninterrupted forest, save for the road, which seems stark by comparison. More and more hours pass and the landscape seems the same as two hours previous.

The feeling of remoteness grows, as well as sadness that my first visit to Sweden is bound to be a fleeting trip confined to the drivers seatyet, in our minds, its crucial to reach another team before we press through to Russia. At these longitudes, the summer days are long with night barely managing to creep in for a few hours. This helps with visibility. As we head farther north, the days get longer until there is no darkness at all. Closer to evening, the repetitiveness of it all can cause fatigue. You're eager to pass something of significance: a border, a town, a river, a taller treeanything that will give some sense of the distance travelled. Finally, a sign for the Finnish border appears. We decide to end the long day on the Finnish side, near the town of Kemi. On the outskirts of the town, we find a small lay-by on the countryside. Its 4 AM, its light out, and weve just calculated that wed driven 21 continuous hours, interrupted only by the inevitable stop to refuel. Were too tired to fluff around with a tent, so we try to make ourselves comfortable in the car, amidst the mess and man-sweat and trace fumes of fuel. Its amazing how much mess can accumulate in a car carrying two men over a few days of driving! I decide to try and lie on the backseat, crawling into my sleeping bag, and wrapping a t-shirt around my eyes to block the sunlight.

My co-driver fends for himself in the front seats. Closing my eyes, the image of pristine, never-ending road seems burned to my retinas, yet I soon fall asleep. Four hours later, around 8:30 AM, were both unpleasantly awoken by flies and midges, which have no doubt been attracted by the smell emanating from the slightly-open car window. Hopping around any exposed body parts, I try in a half-sleep to wave them away, but they are a consent irritation, landing on my lip, my one exposed ear, really anywhere that isnt covered and a million places that are. Theres no option but to admit defeat, so we jump out of the car and prepare for another Le Mans-esque feat. Pesky flying beasties circle us, even beyond the cars walls, waiting for moments of absolute stillness to land on us again. Annoyed and grumpy, we jump into the car, open all the windows, and drive off, trusting the airflow to vanquish any leftover intruders. Our route takes us farther north, though Finlands northern wilderness.

Finland is know as the Land of a Thousand Lakes, and as our route meanders through the wilderness, we feel like we've seen most of them as the sun reflects off the surfaces of these enormous bodies of water through thin green blanketed with forestry. The road skirts the banks of these shores, marked with trees on the other side. Its as if the Finns who laid these roads wanted to treat drivers to a wonderful picturesque scene, maybe even reward them for making the effort to travel so far north and the enchanting idyll is certainly appreciated. Although not too dissimilar from what we've experienced throughout our drive through Sweden, the Land of a Thousand Lakes is somehow more rewarding: the trees seem thicker, more dense and green, and the lakes somehow more large and picturesque and the roads have an unvanquished feel about them.

Relaxed, nearly forgetting our rendezvous with other teams, we casually pull over every so often to stretch our legs, even managing a little toe-dip in a lake. The air is fresh and piney, inviting us to snap pictures at our leisure. Of course, some stops are necessary, for another kind of nature calls to my co-driver; he disappears to do what if many often ask bears do in the woods. I flick through the map and run my finger over our anticipated route along the page. A few minutes later, George comes running back from the sylvan roadside, waving invisible beasties from his body and shouting Go go go! They bite! Its like a scene from a comedy script. We set out as he explains how the swarm of midges and mosquitoes hid in the dark woods, waiting to ambush him at the sound of his belt unbuckling. Its hard to concentrate on driving through the laughter, as George laments that hes been bitten in the most sensitive areas. Mid-afternoon takes us to one of the highlights of our road trip: appearing suddenly out of the wilderness are signs for Santas workshop appear and finally a large sign welcoming us to the Arctic Circle, complete with a line drawn across the road depicting this invisible line of demarcation between the extremities of the midnights sun and the polar night. Taking the obligatory photos of the Arctic Circle sign a must and using our phones to confirm the GPS coordinates is fun, even if the large Santa souvenir shop and cafe ever-so-slightly cheapen the experience.

Deep in Finlands north-country, we slice through the forest on long, single-lane roads, continuing north when suddenly the road widens and the walls of trees, once inches from our windows seem now to be 100 feet away. Unsure what this Finnish road-feature means, I let off the accelerator and coast on the cars momentum. With an examination of the markings, it dawns on us that the massive longitudinal tarmac could be an emergency runway incorporated into the road, and why not if you've got the space! Coincidentally this is where we encounter our first reindeer. These massive, majestic creatures cross the roads calmly, almost oblivious to traffic. This is their land drivers will stop for them, passengers admiring the close encounters until the reindeer decide they've paused long enough, allowing traffic to resume. This also sparks up a discussion on the difference of elk, moose, and reindeer, which becomes a recurring theme in our conversations for the reminder of our trip (until finally settled by Wikipedia upon our return).

As we drive north, our trips progress is occasionally disrupted by a herd of reindeer walking across the road. The sun gleams much longer then were accustomed to, and as we progress to the Norwegian border again without customs or border processwe encounter a simple sign welcoming us to the Kingdom of Norway. The landscape changes subtly for a few miles, but after awhile, much of the forest disappears, giving way to hills, and then mountains. It isnt until late afternoon that we finally catch up to another banger team. After a few introductions and a sigh of relief that we have a ride back home should our car decided to give up, we decide that we can just about make the Russian boarder before it closes at 10 PM. We race through the relatively short Norwegian leg, stopping only to refuel (my co-driver eagerly reminding me not to place the fuel cap on the roof).

Indeed, we make it to the border in time. This is the first real border check, and were prepared for this to be a thorough one. Russia has a reputation for bureaucracy. This, compounded with the fact that old British bangers trying to enter Russian territory through a far off, lonesome outpost not being something the guards come across often, means were in for a proper going over. First we approach the Norwegian customs post, where they check our passports and happily wave us off. A brief, slow, and cautious drive over no-mans-land takes us toward what weve mentally prepared ourselves for. Its strange how simple things, such as foreign border guards, can get the butterflies flapping in ones stomach. Surely the worst thing they can do is deny you passage and send you backor could they arrest you for spying? Its too latewere committed! We exit the vehicles and enter the customs building, all our papers in hand (What papers?! See below!). One by one, we are inspected by the official.

He checks our passports and visas thoroughly before turning his attention our vehicular paper work. Opel? he asks in a firm way, I consider correcting him by explaining its a Vauxhall, but decide this isnt the best time. I approach and pass him the paper for the car. In broken English he explains that I need to fill out temporary import papers for the car and lends me a pen. He continues to explain that our vehicle can stay in Russia for up to six months, however I cannot leave without the car. No pressure, I suppose, as its only 15-years old and has a history of breaking down. I fill out the comprehensive form, and hand it over minutes later. He sighs, passing me a blank formId filled out a wrong field. Oops! Repeat the process, and Ive cocked it up again! Clearly, nerves and the fatigue of driving are catching up to me. On my third attempt, the official is satisfied.

During the paperwork formalities and stamping of passports, our vehicles are being searched by the border guards. Admirably these formalities aren't as difficult as I expected, and in a little under an hour we are allowed to continue on into the largest country in the world. By 10 PM, its been a long day, but we expect to be in the city of Murmansk in a few hours where wed finally be able to check in to a hotel and have a shower and treat ourselves to little comfort or so we thought. Indeed, Murmansk in only a few hours away from the border, providing you take the correct road and not the unfinished motorway which prematurely erected signs suggest is open. The final push to Murmansk is a demanding one. However, to call this the worst road Ive ever driven on is unjust, as the road has not actually yet been laid. Rather, its a very wide mud track, where land has been cleared in preparation for the road to go down. With no idea how far the track went on for, after a few hours, we are sure well reach our destination after the next gradual bend or hill in the clearing. Yet each horizon only exposes nothing new.

The sun disappears behind dark clouds, yet its still light out, which helps. In the early hours of the morning, tiredness really takes a toll as we struggle to concentrate on maneuvering the car though the path of least resistance, progressing truly at a snails pace as we avoid holes, bumps, and scraping the undercarriage. Each vibration and knock helps to prevent the danger of sleep kicking in. Its the fear of what damage we must be doing to our car that delivers true insomnia. A light fog lines our route and the surrounding moorland, almost like a smoke machines be left on, providing eerie feel to the drive. Hours later, we finally come across tarmac, and though it is completely riddled with pot-holes, we can finally increase our speed and make actual progress to Murmansk. The route takes us over an old, metal-framed bridge spanning a powerful body of water.

As we near the other side, Murmansk comes into sight. This city, home to some 300,000 people, is an architecturally interesting place. Surrounded by forested hills on one side and heavily industrialised on the water-front with a sea port, the city is positioned along a wide sea inlet on the bay, some 12 km inland from the Barents Sea. The horizon holds a truly stark contrast of naturally lovely landscapes and large, grey, Soviet-era buildings. Theres little in the way of touristy stuff to see and do in Murmansk, but wandering through the city is an experience itself. Crossing large boulevards, walking past massive concrete structures with facades depicting the classic communist hammer and sickle is arresting. Some of these buildings are clearly in a severe state of disrepair, and as with so many Russian stereotypes, statues of Lenin aren't difficult to find.

When the sun shines, its surprising how many different shades of grey are noticeable around the city. I begin to feel strangely attracted to this domineering city, like a flower blooming amidst this vast concrete jungle. There is a museum for those interested in the regions art, history, or proud shipping and naval heritage. A worthy place to visit is the nuclear icebreaker docked nearby, where guided tours take you through the worlds first nuclear-powered surface ship. Overlooking much of the city is the Alyosha Statue, a massive 30-meter tall statute of a soldier, which is accessible by car. Accommodation in Murmansk is not really tailored for those on a shoestring budget, so do not expect hostels or bunk houses. Instead, there are hotels which cater to business men.

Nevertheless, you can still find decent offers, like the city's Park Inn. If you're after a pub, you may struggle a bit. That's not to say there aren't any just that they're not easy amidst the sea of grey communist exteriors. Its easy to mistake the local pub for just another housing block. But its fun to get lost in the town and to ask locals to point you in the right direction. The younger people here can be very friendly and eager to practice their English. After a short conversation, they're happy to help, suggesting the best places in town.