Day 17 | 16.05.2016: A Day on the Allgäu-Orient Rallye with Team # 85

The door into the new day is 1 metre 20 high and 1 metre wide. Of that, however, we only have 40 centimetres of height to crawl out of our bed in the car boot. The bed divides the boot in half vertically, so there’s storage space below and sleeping space above. And if you need the toilet in the middle of the night, there’s no comfortable way out. The door protects the car’s occupants not just from cold and dust — it also marks the boundary between two worlds. The world outside, during our rally that means mainly the morning and evening world, is a world full of uncertainties. The world inside is where we sit during the day, driving kilometre after kilometre. And because the ageing engines of our cars come along for the ride, sadly the inside world isn’t entirely free of uncertainties either.

It is 6 o’clock on this Monday morning, 16 May 2016, and it is an average day on our journey. At one car, someone is playing guitar and singing along. Some are drinking coffee, others are still moving a bit tentatively. Others are still asleep. You can count yourself lucky if you don’t already have to carry out repairs on your vehicle first thing in the morning. Since Turkey, all rally teams have been gathering each evening at a central camp site provided by the Allgäu-Orient Rallye organisation committee. The roughly 74 teams with their roughly 200 cars form a random nation, a micro-state where there is almost always a solution to any problem. Some teams have already set up camp for the night. Those who had a harder time with Turkish conditions arrive at the site close to midnight. Occasionally a team decides to stay in a hotel and won’t be able to enjoy the protection of the micro-state again until the following day. Probably due to the political situation in Turkey (the instability of which, incidentally, we don’t notice at all), the police always guard the camp sites. These are often located right in the middle of a town or village. And often the mayor, followed by the local TV crew, comes by and seeks contact with us. In groups, the teams sit together in front of their cars, cooking, eating, laughing, drinking beer, making music. The smell of grilled food mingles with that of engine oil and petrol. The closer the rally gets to its end, the more cars squeak, whistle or are towed into camp.

After breakfast, our vehicles transform into offices, living rooms, saunas. And often all three at once. In the front car, the drivers take time for navigation and handle administrative tasks. Sorting photos, saving videos, sending emails. In the second car, blog posts are written. The third car is our tool car. It’s on the scene immediately whenever help is needed.

The opportunities for photo and video editing are limited, and internet access isn’t available everywhere. So we can’t publish news every single day. After our trip we’ll upload videos and more photos — from the “Le Mans start”, from off-road drives, funny moments, mishaps.

We cover roughly 450 kilometres per day and are on the road for about 10 hours. During the drive we fuel up, stop here and there for shopping, and need the toilet. We pull over at the roadside to take photos and shoot videos. Almost every day we have to complete tasks set by the rally organisation. Most of the time we eat snacks and fruit during the day. It’s fairly rare that we stop in a village and buy a dürüm. The outside temperature is 26 degrees. In two of the cars the air conditioning doesn’t work. Some rough road surfaces make it nearly impossible for the passenger to get any restful sleep. The days are tiring and long.

We don’t know which route other teams are taking. Now and again we’re overtaken by other teams, or we overtake some ourselves. It’s always a brief moment of familiarity, a little taste of home in a foreign land. You honk and wave at each other and then disappear again until next time. We’re often well behind schedule and lose a lot of time. The Turkish temperament is relaxed; we adopt this attitude — but then feel frustrated when we encounter it in others. One person wants the toilet right now. Another is getting hungry soon. And the third just wants to keep driving. You can feel the restlessness that grips you for a moment. Things that seem trivial turn out to be the real challenges: the driving style of the car in front, because it lacks fluency; the “commands”, because they’re unnecessary; the need for recognition, because someone who constantly needs validation takes up too much space. The lack of contribution from individual members toward the team, and indifference to others’ wellbeing, is also frustrating. Every day we’re together for 24 hours, 28 days straight. Of course we’re not always in a good mood. But we try to trust that the others will handle a task just as well as we would ourselves. Because often, when you give others free rein, they surprise you with creative ideas. The bond in our team is by no means sentimental. But that’s no way to treat your teammates!

Whoever is tired lies down to sleep. On our narrow but comfortable bed in the boot. Because the next day starts early and will probably again ignore all plans. At around 00:30 everyone on our team is asleep. At 6 o’clock the camp comes back to life, people crawl out of their cars. Some are still moving a bit tentatively, others are drinking a coffee. Someone is playing guitar and singing along. There’s no nicer way to be woken up. Often all rally teams set off together in the morning. We’re escorted by the police, all roads are blocked. We can leave the city without any traffic. People line the roadside, smiling and waving at us. The rally cars honk in the narrow streets, sound their sirens and rev their engines. The vehicles stopped by the Turkish police honk along. It feels like a village fair.

Cramped sleeping conditions, hot temperatures while driving, long days, disagreements. The remarkable thing is that every single person still genuinely wants to be here and looks forward to the next day. One of the many peculiarities of our journey, which is slowly drawing to a close.

What else we’ve experienced:

For two days we were travelling together with another team. They had one car left and three people. It was a great time!
Our camp site was located in a town known for its cave dwellings (fairy chimneys) and cave churches. We had a look at them. Impressive and picturesque. The town in question is called Ürgüp, by the way, and is located pretty much in the centre of Turkey.