In my early days of travelling I was a backpacker; reliant on public transport and forever frustrated by how inconvenient, uncomfortable, exhausting, unpleasant and even dangerous it often was. Arriving late at night on the edge of a town and falling prey to avaricious taxi drivers, or booking expensive ‘tours’ to get out into the wilderness were wearisome experiences. In those days it never even crossed my mind to take my own vehicle. Aside from not having a driving licence, I imagined it would be prohibitively expensive and logistically very difficult to travel by such means through multiple countries outside of the EU. Both of these assumptions were largely incorrect.
Eventually, it was a newspaper clipping sent to me by my mother in 2004 which gave me the idea to travel with my own vehicle. As I read the story of one man riding his motorcycle all around Africa, I was inspired by the sense of freedom, independence and by the idea of a long, overland journey: something with which I had been transfixed since childhood. I vowed to make a similar journey. The vehicle concept soon changed from a motorcycle to a four-wheel drive (more convenient, more luggage space, less dangerous) and much later the destination changed from Africa to Eurasia, but essentially it was at this moment that the Odyssey was conceived.
After very little research, it became clear to me that there was only one choice of vehicle manufacturer and the question of which vehicle to take became a question of which Toyota to take. After much consideration, I chose a 1993 Hilux 4×4 Diesel. Reliable, tough and utilitarian, mechanically simple, free from worrisome electronics, comparatively light, economic and ubiquitous throughout much of Eurasia, the Hilux made an excellent overland vehicle. The truck would take me over some seriously rough terrain, over some of the world’s highest roads, across the snowy wastes of Mongolia, through empty deserts and the hectic cities of the Indian Subcontinent. The truck’s low-profile look would often blend-in with local traffic, allowing me for example to access parts of Pakistan from which foreigners are normally kept well away, and it would allow me to drive inconspicuously across Afghanistan where security was a major consideration.
The truck had approximately 250,000 kilometres on the odometer when purchased, but after minimal maintenance it was ready for the road. In hindsight I should have invested a little in some new springs, new radiator and new tyres, but in essence the truck made the initial four-and-a-half year, 155,000 kilometre journey without requiring any major work. I did not deem it necessary to modify the truck before setting off; adding weight with needless accessories, or compromising reliability by adding after-market parts. I did not require a vehicle which could survive Armageddon, or drive through a metre-and-a-half of standing water, and I did not want a vehicle which was obviously foreign and drew attention. I had an aluminium deck made for the cargo bed, which allowed me both to pitch a tent, and keep my luggage safe. Aside from this, the truck was left standard.
The truck is fantastic for travelling in; a trusty travel companion which almost never gives trouble. Travelling with a vehicle greatly improves my travel experiences, and I can say unequivocally that it gave me vastly more freedom and opportunity to explore than I had previously, when backpacking. It also forces me to strictly adhere to one of my most fundamental rules of travel; to travel only by surface means. At times, when out in the wilderness, accompanied by fellow vehicle-based travellers, or just out alone in the desert, far away from cities, crowds and noise, the truck is absolutely central to the travel experience.
The truck has been through some scrapes, always down to poor handling on my part; it has almost fallen off a log-bridge into roaring mountain river, been hit by a rockfall in Pakistan, fallen through a frozen river in Mongolia and twice flown off icy Siberian roads; each time continuing without fault. Indeed, in 189,000 kilometres it has only broken down once, due to nothing more than a kink in a fuel hose.
Upon returning to the UK in December 2011, the truck was parked-up, out in the dismal British weather. Mechanically, the truck was still in great condition and passed a British MOT (roadworthiness test) with minimal work, but the bodywork was starting to decay. There was of course no question of selling the truck and I soon settled on a plan which I had had loosely in mind for some time; to totally restore the vehicle back to original condition. This would turn out to be massively time-consuming and expensive, but also deeply rewarding and educational. With the exception of repainting, very nearly all the work was carried out by myself. With the exception of suspension components, only genuine Toyota parts were used.
The chassis had some minor welding carried out, then was shot-blasted and sprayed with molten zinc. Much of the bodywork was replaced, panel-by-panel by drilling out the original spot-welds and re-welding original panels to replace those which were corroded. Heavy rustproofing was carried out to maximise future body life.
The engine was stripped, all tolerances checked (the block had actually been bored out to a 0.50 millimetre oversize in Pakistan in 2009) and all service parts replaced. The injection pump was overhauled, worn parts replaced, then calibrated by a diesel specialist. The transmission, transfer and entire driveline were overhauled with all new seals and new bearings where necessary.
The bare bodywork was then totally resprayed, not in the old Midnight Blue, but in Sandy Taupe, a colour more suited to the environments in which I travel. Eventually, after seven months of daily work, the truck emerged from the garage, in like-new condition. That very evening I would set off to continue the Odyssey.
With only very minor teething problems from bolts which had not been tightened correctly, the truck made the 33,000 kilometres of the second part of the Odyssey without a problem, and is primed for future trips.