Chapter 1 Countdown

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      All in all it was a brilliant weekend and I feel sure that if we get stranded in the middle of steppe, mountain or desert we will have Nigel—aka Uncle Nobby—and Kim’s wise words echoing in our ears. Failing that, we will certainly have their numbers on speed dial.

      One final thing: Jo and I have both come back suffering from a mild case of Stockholm syndrome.

      It hasn’t been the most eventful week in Tukland: no more survival courses in the depths of Devon or learning how to splint fractures at the Royal Geographical Society. However, on the logistics front we have made some headway since the China Sea International Travel Service (CSITS) in Beijing has now confirmed that we can enter China on 10 June. Since it will take us about 12 days to drive north from Bangkok to China, this gives us a start date of 28 May, which means leaving England around 20 May for a final week of planning and preparation. That will give us enough time in Bangkok to become acquainted with Ting Tong, our supersonic tuk tuk, get some mechanical training and generally prepare ourselves for the next 12 500 miles.

      Other main news this week is that we are getting our fundraising action plan in place and exploring security issues. As we are two girls going solo, security is something we have to consider carefully. What sort of back-up are we going to have? What methods of communication are we going to use? How do we cope if we break down in the middle of nowhere? This week I have been talking to International SOS and Control Risks Group, professional security organisations, to see what they can offer us and at what price. Option one, having a two-man back-up team with us 24/7, comes in at a hefty £600 a day—laughably beyond our budget. Option two, at around £3000 for three months, is to have a remote assistance team, whom we call every day and who will warn us of any potential security or medical risks. Option three is to go it alone and trust in the power of Ting Tong. At the moment Option three is favourite, unless some kind corporation decides to throw a wad of cash our way.

      Jo’s off to India next week to see her fiancé Raja. Does anyone want to look after her ferrets?

      Exciting news! Skype confirmed this week that they are going to sponsor us. We are thrilled to be in cahoots with such a well-known brand and are looking forward to calling everyone via Skype from the back of the tuk tuk. If you haven’t already discovered Skype, get on to it. It’s amazing. I’ve been having Russian lessons via Skype with my teacherVanda, she in her house in Sweden, and I in my house in Norfolk. Technology, eh?

      It sounds like Jo is having fun in India. Her last email recounted an ear-piercing festival she had been to.

      My friends Bella and Ewan have just come back from three weeks in Thailand, Cambodia and Laos and said that not only was it unbearably hot but that one night it rained so much in Bangkok that the water was up to their knees. By May it’ll be even hotter, and with the monsoon looming there are bound to be a few more of these flash floods. I’ve been caught in them before and the volume of water is