We drove the Mongol Rally through Central Asia

I wanted to see Iran and the Stans, and I found an adventure race that went exactly there. Then I looked at the dates. I had a full-time job, and disappearing for more than three weeks was never going to happen. So I did the obvious thing and ran my own version, on my own terms.

I made a presentation and sent it round. The plan called for eight people, two cars, a Russian speaker and a mechanic. What I got was five people, one car, and the discovery that the Russian speaker was me, barely, and the mechanic was also me, a man who can change a wheel and nothing else.

Kicking anyone out felt wrong, so five of us folded ourselves into a single old Mercedes bought for under a thousand euros. My one clever move was to skip the European leg entirely. I had seen those countries, and fewer people meant a longer-lived car, so my friends drove it out and I flew in to meet them in Tehran.

From there it was Iran, the Turkmen desert, Uzbekistan, the Pamirs of Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan. Eight blown hydraulic pipes, two flat tyres, tents pitched wherever the day ran out, and locals who stopped, unasked, every single time we broke down.

My own road ended in Kazakhstan, at a canyon at sunrise, where work called me home. Three of them carried on to Mongolia and beyond. We all assumed the car was gone for good. Months later a phone call told us to come and collect it.

Plan the trip. Then go, ready or not.