Through a rabbit hole
It doesn't take you 16.194 and one km to realize you are lost. You get it in the very first minutes on the road that what your are looking for is neither in the trunk of your god damn car nor in any corner of those two horse towns passing by like strangers on the street. But it must have been this feeling of lostness, the longing of our generation that has driven us. Because if you have nowhere to go, you don't need to look for reasons to stay. It's that simple. You just go. So in the end of July the Mad Tea Party packed their bags with childish dreams with maps from countries our grandmas never heard of and iPods with gigabytes of old songs and new ones, songs we will now forever cherish and tracks that we will curse for life. With foolish minds, boots of greater expectations and pockets filled with naivity we began this roadtrip in Berlin to somehow reach Mongolia.
We fell in this rabbit hole called Mongol Rally and started to fail from the very first second. Sometimes we made as many as six insanely stupid decisions before breakfast. We missed every deadline, lost or broke more than we had and that wasn't even before the two chaotic Shire Boys and their shit wreck of a British Lada Niva joined our way. Those were the days of ridiculous threats, unwinnable bets, laughter and bonfires along the fairytale scenery of central asia. We paid the devil a visit, drove on some of world's highest roads and talked about all these places we would go while sleeping under a billion stars. It were lies like these we chose to tell and stories like those we wished to believe. We played new roles everyday and lost and found ourself here and there.
We eventually made it through those burning craters and freezing nights but after 9 Weeks on the road, 16.194 km, countless lovely strangers in 18 different countries we still weren't even close to a finish line that had been closed weeks ago. But we had already known miles before, that it's been a race without finish all along, no first or last place. It was never a rally it was just a longing. A longing no road could ever satisfy and no starry night could ever heal. But it were for these roads, nights, songs and tales, these people, tears, smiles and scares that we needed so badly while yearning for more. Like branches of a tree sticking through our wounds and keep our hearts burning.