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Impossible Takes a Little Longer , livre ebook

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123 pages

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The Impossible Takes a Little Longer is the story of an adventure-packed overland journey made by an inexperienced group of young men and women who set out to drive across the world to Australia and back in two old motor vehicles. The chosen route would take them through the bandit-infested areas of the famous Burma Ledo road, en route to Singapore. Their plan was to work their passage across to Australia by ship.Many problems, disappointments, and mistakes were to arise during the early planning stages. The journey was made on a very limited budget and all the equipment was basic. The vehicles used had seen better days and sponsors were few and far between. There was much sickness on the return half of the journey, which included malaria, jungle foot, hookworm, fever, guinea worm and dysentery.It was reckoned that the whole journey would take about nine months. In fact, it took twice as long. The delay in leaving Australia, which was due with shipping bound for Singapore, resulted in a late arrival in Thailand and Burma, where the group ran smack into a monsoon and suffered all the delays and hold-ups associated with it.The complete journey (London-Singapore-Australia-Singapore-London) covered a road distance of 40,000 miles, more than 5,000 miles of which were in Australia.

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Travel writing

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Publié par	eBook Versions
Date de parution	16 octobre 2017
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781843964612
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	11 Mo

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under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work ISBN 978-1-84396-461-2 This ebook is sold subject to the

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Acknowledgements

This book could never have been written but for the help of my good friend Elaine Burrell of Chingford, who unscrambled and put on computer every word of my handwritten scribble, turning it into a legibly readable manuscript. My thanks to Michael Learner for scrutinizing the manuscript for any missing words, commas, or full stops etc, and for his input on ocean-going oil tankers. Thanks to my long-suffering daughters, Carolyn and Wendy, who listened, without complaint, to my endless ramblings whilst I read passages from the manuscript to them The photographs for this book were kindly scanned and prepared for publication by Fred Harmer. This book is dedicated to my dear wife, Betty, who suffered my absence whilst bringing up our daughter for far longer than had been planned. The expedition took twice as long to complete than could reasonably have been envisaged.

THE

IMPOSSIBLE

TAKES A

LITTLE LONGER

DRIVINGACROSSTHEWORLD ANDBACKINALANDROVER

James Knutson

PUBLISHER NAME

COVER COPYRIGHT& CREDITS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS TITLEPAGE FOREWORD INTRODUCTION CHAPTERONE

Highlights of the Outward Journey

Contents

CHAPTERTWO Our Slightly Worn Communist Document CHAPTERTHREE

Arrival in Singapore

CHAPTERFOUR

Boarding Polykarp

CHAPTERFIVE

Landing in Australia CHAPTERSIX Preparing for the Journey Home

CHAPTERSEVEN

Journey Across Australia

CHAPTEREIGHT

Aboard the Charon

CHAPTERNINE

Return to Singapore CHAPTERTEN Entering Malaya

CHAPTERELEVEN Thailand CHAPTERTWELVE

Leaving Bangkok

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Forbidden Entry into Burma

CHAPTERFOURTEEN India CHAPTERFIFTEEN

West Pakistan

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

Afghanistan CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Iran (Persia)

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Turkey EPILOGUE

Foreword

The Impossible Takes a Little Longer is the story of an adventure-packed overland journey made by an inexperienced group of young men and women. These intrepid young people set out to drive across the world to Australia and back in two old motor vehicles. The chosen route would take us, through the bandit-infested areas of the famous Burma Ledo road, en route to Singapore, where, hopefully, the plan was to work our passage across to Australia by ship. Many problems, disappointments, and mistakes were to arise during the early planning stages of the expedition. The Foreign Office refused to support an application to the Burmese Embassy in London for transit visas through their country saying that it was too dangerous. The Burmese themselves also refused my direct approach for permission. They informed me that due to the unstable political situation, insurgent activity, and appalling road conditions, its borders with India had been closed to outsiders since the end of World War II. Without Burmese visas, the trip would have been dead in the water. However, I couldn’t accept that my long-term dream to become the first person to traverse both directions through that benighted country to and from Singapore, with an added trek across Australia’s Nullarbor Plain, was doomed to failure before it had even begun. I would take my chances and sort the Burma problem out when we arrived in Calcutta. This journey was made on a very limited budget, and all our equipment was basic. The vehicles we used had certainly seen better days, and sponsors were few and far between. There was no winch on the Land Rover‒ we couldn’t afford one‒had to rely on man, so women, and animal power to pull to us from the swamps. There was much sickness on the return half of the journey, which included malaria, jungle foot, hookworm, fever, guinea worm, a hand infection, and dysentery. Although there were no guidelines to work on, it was reckoned that the whole journey would take about nine months. That was grossly underestimated; in fact, it took twice as long. The delay in leaving Australia, which was due to a hold up with shipping bound for Singapore, resulted in our late arrival in Thailand and Burma, where we ran smack into a monsoon and suffered all the delays and hold-ups associated with it. The complete journey (London-Singapore-Australia-Singapore-London) covered a road distance of 40,000 miles. Over 5,000 miles of those were in Australia. On the return journey we towed a small trailer to carry some of our equipment and free up space in the vehicle. On the surface it seemed like a good idea at the time, but it didn’t take long to realize it was a big mistake. It caused nothing but problem after problem and was always in need of some kind of repair. However, I wasn’t about to give up on it. So against my better judgement, we suffered it and dragged it all the way back to England. For the last 1,000 miles its steel body had to be supported and was propped up with thick bamboo canes. We were helped along the way by many people I choose to call my friends, and I give a special thanks to the staff at a number of our embassies, who very kindly gave us accommodation, facilities for repairing the vehicle, and medical attention from their own doctor. Why did we go? This is a question that is frequently trotted out; I suppose the answer must be, because I wanted to. I had talked about it for years before deciding to put my money where my mouth was. Whether it was a complete success would be for the reader to judge. For myself, I have had a world of travel and adventure, and seen places I could once

only dream of. I accomplished almost everything that I set out to do. Even down to working my passage aboard ship, which, I had been told, was impossible.

Introduction

Ever since I was a boy at school I have always been enthralled by stories of travel and adventure, and usually found it hard to resist a dare made to me by my school chums. This lingering thirst for excitement was to remain with me into my adult life. It was, therefore, no surprise to friends and others who knew me when I made up my mind to chase my long-term dream and take up the challenge of leading an expedition overland to Singapore. From there, taking my vehicle with me, I planned to work my passage aboard ship to Australia for a short respite, before driving back home again from Singapore. The early planning for this journey was thought out and written on scraps of paper during a prolonged spell in a hospital bed, and it soon became clear that there were many problems to overcome. Currency regulations were in force and those travelling abroad in the late fifties were allowed to take no more than £40 per person out of the country. Although many letters were written to companies seeking sponsorship, apart from Castrol, who very kindly supplied all our oil along the route, and Kraft Cheese, who gave us special discounts on their products, very little else was forthcoming. Money was tight all round and everything was organized on a shoestring budget.

I advertised in theLondon Weekly Advertiserfor suitable like- minded people with a spirit of adventure to join me. Soon the letters started to flow in with each one making their pitch to convince me they were the people I was looking for. But sadly, in most cases, they weren’t. Finding people with the right motivation wasn’t easy. The expedition was looked at by some as nothing more than a glorified long holiday. My original intention had been to make the journey with six people using one vehicle, a long wheelbase Land Rover. However, because of the severe currency restrictions and the need to generate more income that could legally be taken out of the country, the only way I could see around this problem was to increase the size of the party. This was a big mistake that I was later to regret. I purchased a second vehicle, a Ford 15-cwt truck, for £50 at a government surplus auction of military vehicles in the north of England. Seemingly, things were beginning to shape up, and against my better judgement, I settled on a party of fifteen, ten men, which included myself and five women. Their ages ranged from seventeen to thirty-six. Of these people, some were accepted solely on their ability to raise the necessary contributions, but I couldn’t help my nagging doubts about whether all the members of the group had the necessary grit to stay the course.

How long that course would take I had no real idea. The best assessment I could arrive at was to be back home in England within nine months. That prediction turned out to be wildly optimistic. There was no yardstick from which I could take guidance as nobody had ever completed a trip overland to Singapore and back again, with a journey across the Australian desert thrown in as an added extra. When the International Vehicle Carnet was applied for, the AA informed us that travel visas through Burma were unobtainable. I sought the help of the Foreign Office in support of my application to the Burmese Consulate for overland travel visas. Their response was uncompromising. “It is impossible and we would never recommend it. Permission would never be granted. Burma is a dangerous place! Sorry, but we can’t help.” I then applied directly to the Burmese Consulate, who confirmed that their land borders to and from India had been closed to road traffic since the end of World War II. This was a major setback to my aspirations of achieving something that had never been done before.

However, I wasn’t ready to buckle or throw in the towel and accept that my dream was over. I knew the odds were stacked very much against me, and I realized that without being able to penetrate the jungles of Burma’s no-go area, the natural barrier to Singapore, it would have spelt the death knell of the trip and left us pondering in Calcutta. That was a problem that would have to be overcome when we arrived there. When we left England I could never in my wildest dreams have envisaged a situation where I would be rescued by the Mujahideen from the frozen hell of an Afghan winter, or be saved

from walking into a minefield by a notice board that I couldn’t read. I was also to rescue a trapped and injured Afghan driver from a crashed Russian tanker spilling fuel. It was never on the cards that our vehicle would be pulled from jungle swamps by an elephant, and that I would be struck down by malaria, or that the girls would suffer from guinea worm and jungle foot. When I doctored our Burmese visas, I never thought they would be so convincing as to be authenticated by the Burmese immigration officials, who would then drag us from the river into that benighted country using an old British Bren-Gun carrier. Although I knew that the Naga’s had a culture as head-hunters, we never expected to find ourselves dancing with them round a fire in their village. Upon my return, I received many letters from other would-be expeditionists wishing to follow my route to, or from, Singapore only for them to be thwarted by the Burma factor. Three army officers once approached me from the Pegasus Overland Expedition seeking information on how I was able to enter that forbidden land. Although willing to help in other ways, information about my entry into Burma was excluded. I had gained entry by using all my ingenuity and initiative, which had not been without great risk, so it was my philosophy that it would be a fitting test of their own inventiveness to do likewise. Although it was no surprise to me, I could understand their frustration when I learned some months later that they too had been denied entry. It had never been my intention to write of my travel experiences, but browsing through my diaries rekindled the events of those bygone days, prompting me to take up the pen and relive my overland adventures from the comfort of my armchair. As my journeys had in the main taken me twice through the same countries, it would be repetitive to write about the same places a second time. So, I have chosen to begin my story from Singapore, after arriving there on the first leg of the journey out of England. However, as events on the outward journey through Turkey and especially Burma had played such a significant part in the ultimate success of the expedition, I have, therefore, highlighted some of the problems encountered along the way, together with a description of my chosen routes.