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As we left Iran, heading north, the weather began to cool but the hospitality certainly did not. From Turkmenistan, through Uzbekistan and into Kazakhstan, the offers for dinner and tea continued. Sadly, with the best roads of the trip soon to be behind us, the need to pick up the pace meant that many of these offers had to be refused - a task that could take considerably longer than the meal would have.

Some 8,000 miles from our starting point, the roads suddenly deteriorated into cratered tarmac where the best option was to drive along the dirt on one side or the other. Our little van, to which we have become far too attached, felt as if it would shake itself to pieces. After overheating on numerous occasions and getting stuck in a small swamp, we made it through in one piece.

Then it was across the border into a refreshingly chilly Russia, our penultimate border crossing. The border guards on the Kazakhstan side were typically friendly, jumping in the van, playing with the stereo and joking, with only occasional requests for a 鈥渟ouvenir鈥�. Having placated them with some fluffy dice and a broken car stereo, we moved on.

Stern-faced Russian soldiers greeted us on the other side. Without a smile from any of them, we managed to enter Russia in just over three hours. The drive through 800 miles of Russia was brief but spectacular, journeying through the mountains of Siberia, following a river up to the pass and into Mongolia.

More and more rally cars appeared, bottlenecked into one of two possible entry points, and when we were finally allowed past the Russian border and into Mongolia there were 20 cars behind us. The day we went through, they only allowed another nine cars to pass. Not encouraging for them, but with just one week to cover 1,200 miles of Mongolia - largely through the Gobi desert - we have more pressing matters to worry about.