Roadworks in Pakistan with not a cone, reflective jacket or even a helmet in sight, let alone heavy machinery.

Becky and I almost ready to go, the morning of our departure outside her flat in Brixton. we have sold almost everything we own including my hair.

We terrified ourselves with a nasty smash into a mountainside on the way to Peshawar which luckily left not much more broken than the windshield, Thelma now looking a bit more gnarly and as for me- with a recent top up on my shorn look we were ready to take on anyone.

Riing the Karakoram Highway through northern Pakistan is nerve-wracking enough anyway, add these huge trucks on the narrow tracks we were following and it becpomes the ultimate game of chicken.

The local Baluchi people seem unaware of the havoc we are about to create in their midst.

We reached the highest paved international road in the world- the Khunjerab Pass at an altitude of 4,693m, a very chilly place to be and with high altitude headaches thumping away we took a longing look at the route into China and turned back returning to a more civilised altitude. Without a large sum of money and endless patience with the buraeucracy it is almost impossible to take a private vehicle into China.

We had decided that we couldn't cross Europe without visiitng Dracula's Castle in Transylvania. The reality being a fairly harmless looking white painted castle with Thelma in the foreground posing on her centre stand.

With only two months between getting Thelma (our bike) and setting off, we needed to cram in as much practice as possible. Even at a family wedding where my sister Sam was bridesmaid I was giving bike rides around the field.