A proud end

June 26: Gdansk (day off) 

We wake up to a wet and grey day – all the hotel umbrellas have been commandeered for drivers working on their cars.  

After our spluttering arrival in Gdansk, we had set off to find a workshop to change the oil. We ended up in the tiniest of Polish workshops where mechanics worked unsmilingly and efficiently and waved us off. What a change from Russia!  

Haizam and I have time on our hands so we explore the old quarter with car 93. It has a lovely old trading centre with Dutch-styled buildings and ornate plaster ceilings, churches, cafés and friendly locals. Haizam climbs 450 claustrophobic steps up the spire and returns giddy but impressed.  

Quite a lot had to be rebuilt after the horrors of World War II. For us though, it is a joy to be away from the car. The feeling of hope is more prevalent here, people were friendlier and infrastructure better.  

The three, wearingtheir silver medals, withCustard Tart at the finishingline: The Sultan of Selangorflanked by his nephew SyedHaizam Jamalullail (left), andDatuk Richard Curtis.

The weather clears in the evening. We all walk to a charming seafood restaurant along the beach for fresh shrimp and crab – my wife Pin would not approve but then she would not understand what a treat this is after endless days of Russian food!  

Many of our fellow European competitors are now interested in coming to visit us in Malaysia: I think we are doing very well as goodwill ambassadors!  

June 27: Gdansk to Potsdam 

Today is a long drive through wonderful country roads with villagers cheering us on.  

As we drive past more modern buildings and urban centres, we prepare to stop for the night. As I sort out my bag with my head in the car boot, two old friends appear!  

Eric Four and his son Jeremy had sauntered over to say hello! They drove over 200km to see us from a small German town where Eric works in Siemens.  

June 28: Potsdam to Koblenz 

Disaster strikes as we turn out of the car park. The steering locks and we discover both front shock absorber connecting arms have sheared. We are very lucky to have discovered this at low speed, so we just tape it all up and drive more vigilantly. 

Everyone who finished therace.

In fact, the rally is full of cars limping now – so many are being extra cautious so that they can get their finishing medal in Paris. Having done the Beijing to Paris with Tuanku (Sultan Sharafuddin Idris Shah) in 1997, I know all that matters is that we finish – without a tow or a truck. 

We finally arrive at the German border where my speaking German seems to help as we are let through with smiles and no delay.  

We hit our last German autobahn. It is evidently a Soviet-era one with uneven concrete roads and slabs that jar our suspension badly so that we slow down. 

Our top speed is now about 90km-100km per hour; soon we arrive at our hotel, a slick modern Polish one built within a park near the Cicilienhof Palace.  

June 29: Koblenz to Reims 

Someone tells us that this is going to be one of the most beautiful driving in the entire rally. And it is. We drive parallel to the River Rheim for hours, occasionally crossing it, seeing picture-postcard villages against a backdrop of vineyards and fortresses.  

Haizam is a pleasure to have as a co-driver and great company. I am glad that Tuanku has given him this chance to experience the rally and mix with so many interesting characters.  

Custard Tart flying theMalaysia and Selangor flags.

Our car is doing well except around a few hairpin bends. Hours later, we reach the border of France only to find that the signboard had been dismantled – welcome to France, I think to myself.  

We arrive at Reims – a beautiful historic town, with charming French villages. We are invited by a small champagne house, Chauteau Merricot, to view their cellar. We climb down 30m below where there are 6km long corridors and thousands of bottles of champagne.  

Later, we head into the centre of historic Reims to park at the cobbled streets where we are besieged by curious onlookers! At the finish line, a chequered flag and noisy exhaust cans welcoming us contribute to the festive atmosphere. 

Finally, we manage to slip away to our hotel – the room is tiny but trendy, but by now we are accustomed to confined spaces. After all, only two days more before the finish in Paris!  

A rally is a real test in learning to live in close proximity. You’re spending 10-15 hours a day with the same person, and sharing rooms too. It is no wonder that so many co-drivers speak to each other only when necessary. Some even get into terrible disagreements.  

Fortunately, this never happened in our car! Tuanku and I were very used to one another after having done the 1997 rally; snoring, toilet habits and all. And Haizam is congenial and just happy to be in the rally!  

We have beautiful French food for dinner and go to bed with trepidation . . . would we make it? 

June 30: Reims to Paris 

Today’s race start is scheduled later than usual. But I can’t sleep and wake up at 6am.  

We do our usual car checks more thoroughly than usual, put in new spark plugs and erect flagpoles on each door with a big 1.2mx.6m Malaysian flag and another with a Selangor flag. 

It is almost as if the weather is gloomy at the thought of our amazing adventure ending in 24 hours. It drizzles all day. 

It is only a short drive – the weather brightens upon our approach into Paris’ outer ring road. Then we get stuck in the famous “Peripherique” which causes our car to sputter black smoke.  

By this time, Tuanku, his son Tengku Amir and daughters Tengku Zerafina and Tengku Zatashah and my wife Pin are frantically ringing to find out why we are one hour late – they are threatening to go for lunch and miss our arrival! 

The finish is amazing – I shall never forget it. We drive through the streets of Paris proudly with our two flags billowing in the sun as race marshals escort us in on roller blades!  

We pass the Notre Dame, then across the Seine and eventually reach Place Vendôme and all its swanky boutiques, to a long line of Malaysian well-wishers! We are the noisiest and most colourful car – even the Parisians are wondering who we are.  

Tengku Amir jumps onto the running board of the car and we drive into the blazing sun. 

I found my insides churning with excitement that we had made it and somewhat sad that it was all going to be over. 

Haizam and I finally get out of the car to be presented with silver medals together with HRH, whom a lot of the rally drivers had missed in the second half of the rally. Race officials present us with a bouquet and a bottle of champagne, which I promptly pop with a loud bang.  

Our beloved Custard Tart is clearly tired and ready for a well-deserved holiday. Our fellow drivers come over and the next two hours are a blur of hugs, congratulations and promises to keep in touch.  

What can one say – we made it without being towed or trucked – and we had an incredible experience of seeing different parts of the world and bonded with people of like mind.  

We have endured great discomfort and been totally exhausted. This was really a rally of endurance, not speed. 

The insights we gained were priceless: China’s economic progress, Mongolia’s untouched wilderness, Siberia’s scenic beauty, the grandeur of Russia (and under-development of its small towns). It has been a roller-coaster ride. 

I think Prince Scipio Borghese and Luigi Barzini, winners of the first 1907 Peking to Paris rally, would be proud to see us re-doing the event; still following telegraph poles and railway lines and encountering constant breakdowns and car problems. Despite “progress”, some things do not change. 

I’m also particularly proud that Tuanku and I managed to do two of the rallies (1997 and 2007) and complete both without much mishap!  

The Custard Tart finished in 33rd place, out of 144 cars, and earned a silver medal for her efforts.