It is late in the afternoon on the last day of the transit visa, and we are only 200 km from the Latvian border. Just as we have the idea to pull over to sleep for a few hours before crossing into Latvia, there is a loud clanking noise and suddenly we are left with no power coming from the accelerator. The truck cruises to the side of the road and very quickly I realise that the newly fabricated drive shaft is now broken in two by the front coupling. Unfortunately there are no more couplings that can be swapped over, so the broken shaft is removed and myself and Ana hitchhike a ride 60km to the closest truck stop.

We manage to find a Russian made ‘monster’ truck to come and tow us to the truck stop, where they arrange for someone to come in the following day, which is a holiday, and fix our problem. Luckily the mechanics arrive first thing in the morning, and whilst they are busy cutting and welding a new drive shaft, Inge and Ana take to hitchhiking a lift with a truck to the closest bank, 100km further up the road in order to get money to pay for the repairs.

The truck is once again repaired; being so close to their European neighbours some of their financial habits seem to have rubbed off, and this time we are presented with a huge bill and brought back sharply to the reality of being in the modern world. We head off straight away to the border, already late for our visa by 12 hours, and are faced with the penalties of overstaying ones welcome in Russia.

The small discrepancy of being one day over ones visa allowance kept us for an extra 3 days at the border. We arrived there on a Saturday and it took until Monday for me to aquire a new visa. Many hours waiting in official offices and even a couple of hours in a Russian jail, I was finally escorted back to the border and the truck was allowed to pass over to Latvia.

Ana and Inge were reprimanded by the border guards for spending too much time wandering around the border post and were confined to the inside of the truck. They escaped their prison a couple of times to collect dandelions and herbs from the surrounding grasses to make soups to eat whilst I was detained. Throughout the whole ordeal we all found the officials at the border to be ‘quite alright’, and it was only their discipline in adhering to a strict regime that lent to such a lengthy happening.

The major part of the return journey has now been made, only 1700km of good paved European roads to traverse before arriving in Amsterdam and closing the circle of our long adventure.

Ramsay.