Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent - Tuk-Tuk to the Road

Cover Page

Title Page Tuk Tuk to the Road two girls, three wheels, 12,500 miles Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent and Jo Huxster

Dedication In memory of Rose and Livs, our guardian angels

Introduction Introduction People often ask us where the inspiration to drive a tuk tuk from Bangkok to Brighton came from. The answer is simple—five years ago Jo went to Bangkok, fell in love with tuk tuks and decided that one day she would drive one back to England. Four years later we turned Ting Tong out of the gates of the British embassy in Bangkok and headed for home. Two continents, 12 countries, 14 weeks and the odd snapped accelerator cable later, we made it to our final destination—Brighton, England. Anyone who has spent even five minutes in a tuk tuk might question why on earth we would consider undertaking such a gruelling journey in one of these noisy three-wheelers. Why not a nice comfortable Land Rover? Well, quite frankly, that would have been dull. The primary motivation for this trip was to take part in a challenging and novel experience, to explore the world in a vehicle that most people would consider travelling in for only a few miles. Plus, as we were going to be doing the trip in aid of the mental health charity Mind, then what better way to attract attention and sponsorship than a bright-pink tuk tuk? Having ideas is one thing, but making them happen quite another. Turning our dream into the reality of a 12,500-mile tukking- extravaganza took determination, tears, stress, excitement and an unwavering desire to succeed. Last January we dived head-first into the unknown, spending the next four months working full time to organise everything: technology, insurance, medical training, finding sponsors, raising money for Mind, learning Russian and much more. It was often difficult to comprehend the enormity of what we were actually doing; instead of feeling scared, we felt like we were planning the trip for someone else. At other times, it felt like galloping flat out towards a vast brick wall with no idea what was on the other side. But all the hard work paid off in the end, as the trip was a unique and amazing experience. After being back for six months, we are still digesting and reliving those 14 weeks on the road. It was the best thing we have ever done and, although it may sound like a horrible cliché, this past year has taught us that if you are determined enough, anything is possible. Jo, Ants and Ting Tong March 2007

Prologue

Planned route

Chapter 1 Countdown

Chapter 2 Lift Off

Chapter 3 The Dragon’s Den

Chapter 4 Ladaland

Chapter 5 The Final Furlong

Chapter 6 Touch Down

Two months later

Frequently asked questions

A tukking quick guide to fundraising

A bit about Mind

Useful sources

Equipment list

Index

Acknowledgements

A note from the authors

Copyright

About the Publisher

In memory of Rose and Livs, our guardian angels

People often ask us where the inspiration to drive a tuk tuk from Bangkok to Brighton came from. The answer is simple—five years ago Jo went to Bangkok, fell in love with tuk tuks and decided that one day she would drive one back to England. Four years later we turned Ting Tong out of the gates of the British embassy in Bangkok and headed for home. Two continents, 12 countries, 14 weeks and the odd snapped accelerator cable later, we made it to our final destination—Brighton, England.

Anyone who has spent even five minutes in a tuk tuk might question why on earth we would consider undertaking such a gruelling journey in one of these noisy three-wheelers. Why not a nice comfortable Land Rover? Well, quite frankly, that would have been dull. The primary motivation for this trip was to take part in a challenging and novel experience, to explore the world in a vehicle that most people would consider travelling in for only a few miles. Plus, as we were going to be doing the trip in aid of the mental health charity Mind, then what better way to attract attention and sponsorship than a bright-pink tuk tuk?

Having ideas is one thing, but making them happen quite another. Turning our dream into the reality of a 12,500-mile tukking- extravaganza took determination, tears, stress, excitement and an unwavering desire to succeed. Last January we dived head-first into the unknown, spending the next four months working full time to organise everything: technology, insurance, medical training, finding sponsors, raising money for Mind, learning Russian and much more. It was often difficult to comprehend the enormity of what we were actually doing; instead of feeling scared, we felt like we were planning the trip for someone else. At other times, it felt like galloping flat out towards a vast brick wall with no idea what was on the other side.

But all the hard work paid off in the end, as the trip was a unique and amazing experience. After being back for six months, we are still digesting and reliving those 14 weeks on the road. It was the best thing we have ever done and, although it may sound like a horrible cliché, this past year has taught us that if you are determined enough, anything is possible.

Jo, Ants and Ting Tong

March 2007

Life before tukking—Ants

It was a typical May day in Bangkok. The streets were the usual gridlock of tuk tuks, taxis and kamikaze bikers, the air stiflingly hot. In the Khao San Road dreadlocked travellers rubbed shoulders with immaculately dressed ladyboys and women hawked their wares to passers-by. There was nothing to suggest that today was anything but ordinary. But for Jo and I this was D-Day, the day when we would embark on a dream born years before. In the cloying, pre-monsoon heat we loaded up our tuk tuk for the first time and wove through the traffic towards the British embassy. Neither of us could get our heads round the enormity of the task that lay ahead—that finally, after months of planning and preparation, we were about to take the first tuk on the long road home. Was a tuk tuk really going to be able to make it all the way to Brighton? It was too late now for such questions. It was time for Lift Off.

Our journey had really begun 15 years earlier when Jo and I found ourselves in the same classroom in the autumn of 1991. Despite our different upbringings—Jo’s in Surrey’s leafy commuter belt, mine in the North Norfolk countryside—we were soon inseparable, our friendship forged on a love of sport, animals and subverting discipline. Winter weekends would be spent careering around the lacrosse pitch, thrashing other schools and gorging ourselves on match teas. In summer we would while away the evenings with long competitive hours on the tennis court, evenly matched and determined to beat each other. The holidays would see us frequenting the National Express between Norwich and London to stay at each other’s houses. It’s easy to look back on the past through a rose-tinted prism, but these early teenage years were a lot of fun, both in and out of school.

I often wonder whether the signs were there during those carefree years. At what point did the cracks begin to show? Jo was always extreme, non-conformist, a rebel—you could say anti-establishment. At an age when peer pressure was at its most potent, she was someone who dared to be different. It wasn’t that she was an attention-seeker; it was just that she seemed to lack the self-consciousness that so commonly afflicts teenagers. While we thought we were at the cutting edge of fashion with our latest purchases from Kensington Market, Jo would go one step further, appearing at school in massive army boots, tie-dye, eye-poppingly short skirts and an undercut, a hairstyle synonymous with dog-on-string ketamine-heads, not public school girls. This, combined with her ridiculous sense of humour, was perhaps what I loved most about her. But was this necessarily an indication of what would happen a few years later? Did fate already have Jo in its clutch?