Day 2 | 01.05. 2016: And Suddenly Those Border Guards

If you didn’t know how it really was, you might imagine something good, something exciting. The setting is atmospheric: late at night, pitch dark, total isolation. In the middle of it all, our three rally cars struggle over the hills and passes. Even though it’s raining and the temperatures give no hint of summer, the mood is good — almost surreal. The drivers swerve around potholes, radioing each other useful, funny and nonsensical things, while the co-pilots try to sleep. That could be the perfect adventure. Or so you might dream. Three vehicles on the road, without stress or the unexpected.

Somehow it could be like that — after all, neither breakdowns nor other vehicles disturb the idyll. The cardinal problem is simply this: it isn’t like that, not by a long shot. Between the individual passes run the borders of Croatia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Montenegro and Albania, where the customs officers have all the time in the world. There is little to no excitement in the cold air, because the question constantly looms: how long will it take before we’re allowed to cross the border?

The long-overdue pronouncement of bureaucratic obstacles — which was in essence a given from the start of the journey — approaches step by step. The customs officers have instructions to follow and are not allowed to let us into the country. Explanations follow that do not gain in clarity with their length. Then, suddenly, it works after all. At Bosnia-Herzegovina at the third customs post after a total of around 90 minutes; at Albania after roughly 3 hours. The situation is so immovable that our team doesn’t even think of striking up the usual chorus of complaints about constant harassment. That’s just how it goes.

Something different applies to another part of our journey, which is increasingly becoming a moment of pure, carefree celebration. We take commemorative photos at special kilometre milestones and photograph ourselves in front of the border signs of the countries we have crossed. In the end it is often uncertain whether there will be a photo in front of the next border sign. The border guards are grim and have little patience. But in that moment nobody cares. As always. Since the beginning.