TERROR...or just a bad trip

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Fear is like a gas...a cloud that can linger...weakening if breathed in.

Being an anticipation...like a gas it can be blown or simply drift away.

I have often experienced fear...but rarely terror.

Terror is like a liquid...beyond anticipation...beyond fear...helpless...nothing more I can do here...resigned to my fate.

Only when the cause departs does terror slither away.

If catastrophe is the solid...I would not be here to tell this tale.

Yet at the time I could see no chance that we would survive without injury that day.

Uzbekistan flight to Moscow to catch our 11:55pm plane home...our double entry Russian visa expiring 5 minutes later at 12 midnight.

Train travellers from Russia to Ukraine caught as their train delayed before the border...detained by boarding police as their visas expired during the delay.

Surely can't happen to us!

As long as we are on board the plane by midnight...what could go wrong?

But in travel it is the unexpected that surprise.

The strongest emotions are the unexpected heightened by travail and distress.

Thus I begin my Uzbekistan blogs with the ending...'cos the events of that last day have consumed me...not crippled by fear...but heightened by terror.

Fear can be overcome

Fear can be overcome such that the emotion is only concern.

Like when we went to the beach with our one month old son Simon...in a papoose on my chest as I clambered over the rocks...too afraid to climb down one section for fear of falling and injuring our baby boy.

So I climbed a 20 metre cliff until reaching the top and safety.

Some may say reckless...but I was more afraid of falling than any concern I could not safely reach the top.



Terror

I can think of one time before this one.

In my early twenties a friend taking me ocean fishing off Coffs Harbour in East Coast Australia...rough seas but Rod confident we can find a spot to anchor and relax with some beers and catch a few for dinner...me apprehensive no way we can cut the engine and survive...but hey he's the captain.

Exited the breakwater into the Pacific Ocean and the waves were colossal.

He had a sharp 30 foot cabin cruiser with a powerful outboard...climbing the incoming breakers then dropping and smashing over the top...wave after wave...admiring his skill...gritting my teeth...apprehension turning to fear...fear turning to terror...if he turns the engine off we are cooked.

After what seemed an eternity Rod saying, "Maybe its too rough"...turning around and sitting just behind the top of monster waves...adjusting the throttle climbing up and down to keep our position...all the way back in.

I remember the relief and my admiration for his calm and skill...on the back of a giant wave...beyond fear...stomach in my mouth.



Trouble in Tashkent

Morad collected us at dawn for our last ride together...his smile indicative of the friendliest country in our travels thus far...our joy of travel often the people we meet.

The roads deserted so heaps of time before our plane leaves for Moscow...bags scanned...security...customs...flashing light..."STOP"...won't give our passports back.

Told to sit just here...Denise enquiring, "What have you done now David?"

Memories of the ceremonial Tibetan knife I had stored in a Potala rug in my hand luggage in Lhasa that Denise and our kids will never let me forget.

"What now David?"

But it was Denise that was led away...both our passports detained...me told to remain seated and not move...Denise gone for half an hour takes up the story.

Escorted out of the terminal...across the road...down into the bowels of the Airport...conveyor belts...Denise's backpack all alone.

"Is that your bag?"

"Yes It is."

"Unpack it."

Unzip...emptying packing cell after packing cell.

"What is that?"

A ceramic tiled place mat that we had bought in Fergana carefully unfolded.

"No, No. Next thing."

Our travel Bose speaker...then my mobile phone...that's where it is..."I keep telling David to carry his mobile in case he wanders off!"

Hand up..."No, No, No. What's that?"

The very last item...a cell with Denise's dirty underwear...removing each delicately and showing to the customs official's horror..."No, No, No."

Leading her back to me...returning our passports with a smile and a "Go, Go, Go."



Tashkent to Moscow

So far only a raised eyebrow moment...still nothing of what was to come.

Uzbeks often not tall people so plane seats a tad smaller than we are used to...Denise at the window...me in the middle...a ball of muscle in the aisle seat next to me.

On his mobile phone replaying a video over and over...so I had to look...weightlifting and massive rope exercises...moving his phone so I could get a closer look.

And as you do we entered conversation.

He had been a participant in the World Judo Championships that had been advertised extensively in Tashkent...he from one country but he had worked in another (I will not name them or him to protect his identity).

The sole representative of the latter and one of the favourites for a Gold Medal in his weight class.

Notwithstanding he was carrying an injury...he progressed to the final rounds...receiving videos of his bouts from his admiring fans that he then showed me.

The injury catching up with him...close but no Gold Medal this time.

I sat satisfied at our interchange...very impressive.

Then he turned to me...tears streaming down his face.

Explaining the dilemma he was now in...seeking counsel from yours truly...entering me into his private space.

He had met a woman he had had a fling with in Tashkent and he had a wife and children who were waiting at Moscow Airport to greet him.

Showed me the photo of the one in Tashkent...gotta say she was an absolute stunner...sex on a stick...he torn to have to leave her.

So I put my work hat on...counselled him as if a client...told him what I do in my professional life.

"Now show me a photo of your wife."

An up close smiling portrait of his wife...love bursting from her face.

"How can you even think of leaving her? She looks lovely." I saying.

And as if I was in my office he took in every word...thanking me profusely for helping him in his time of need.

The joy of travel is truly the plethora of interesting people we meet.



Terror or just the worst bad trip

I have been robbed of my passport and all my money...been lost countless times...fallen off a pushbike at high speed landing on my chest severely winded...climbed a mountain after an operation for a ruptured lung...travelled with a necrotic leg...had a boulder crashing down a scree slope brushing through my hair...been overcome by fear while caving...crawled through miles of stormwater pipes as a kid...been shot in the back (yep that was terrifying!)...misadventures of a misspent youth...had so many close calls.

I'm a survivor.

Yep...I've always been confident I could survive.

Probably the only thing that kept me going sometimes.

Arrive at Vnukovo Airport (VKO) in Moscow at 3:15pm...need get to Domodedovo Airport (DME) for our return flight home...why we got Double Entry Russian Visas...requiring us to travel 40 miles or 64 kms across Moscow...7 hours to get to DME before we can check in for our return flight to Australia 5 minutes before our visas expire...should be easy.

Why risk a bus? I think we'll get a taxi.

Lined up for a guy selling phone credits and transit bookings that I could hear spoke English...long white platinum blonde hair...like a young Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers...would have asked to take his photo...but hey I'm in Russia and I'd be detained in the Airport for sure if I did so.

He organised an Uber. What they have Ubers in Russia?

Had to pay in cash to him and he would make all the arrangements.

"What...I don't pay the driver?"

"No"...he assures me as he makes a call.

With a bit of wandering found the driver who indicated he was expecting us...our packs in the boot...inviting us in.

Denise in the back...me next to the driver as I do not believe in being chauffeured.

"DME?" Seemed to know where we were going.

Onto the Expressway...forested areas...time to sit back and enjoy the ride.

I cannot remember where it started...body stiffening...this guy must be a racing car driver...slow down please...plenty of time...no need to rush.

But this seemed to encourage him...faster and faster...not much traffic so guess we'll be OK.

Reminded me of a pre-marriage flatmate...Australian Formula V Champion...always drove like a maniac 'cos he thought he could.

One time in his Valiant Charger driving towards the S bends near our house.

Wooosh...acceleration rush...passenger seat collapsing...flat on my back...seatbelt sash caught in the seat pedal...slipping and sliding...wheels screaming like no tomorrow...preparing to meet my maker.

The Uber driver starting to enjoy himself.

Then we hit heavy Moscow traffic...lines snaking ahead...Rush Hour in any other country...please slow down...not an invitation to our Uber driver to go faster.

Accelerating at the rear bumpers of cars...sometimes up to 120kph I could see on his speedo...braking at the last moment...somehow stopping with inches to spare...over and over...body contorting...waiting for the inevitable crash.

Reminded me of the General's boxing student whom he arranged to drive us to the Ming Tombs...handled Beijing traffic by speeding hundreds of metres down the wrong side of the road dodging oncoming cars until he found a gap...arriving at the Tombs and doing a right hand turn in front of an oncoming bus...my mate in the back indicating he missed being killed by an inch maybe two...must be a really good boxer I thought!

Our Uber driver racing down the breakdown lane past a long line of stationary traffic...needle at 120kph...me waiting for just one car to pull out...laughing as he shows his phone...then sedately back into traffic pointing at speed cameras and his phone again.

And now he's filming me...keep your eyes on the road...playing back videos of me squealing...laughing in my face...he's really enjoying himself.

I will never forget his face filming me with that mobile phone...nearly weeping with mirth...speeding up and braking suddenly...phone in my face with those eyes...Siberian eyes laughing...my body like stone to not encourage him...then rocking to the music on his car radio that seemed to distract him.

Changing channels on his car radio...this one...that one...louder for this one...looking at me for approval as he twiddled the dial...you like this one do you?...turning it right up...accelerating...braking...trance...out of body...him laughing...me rocking...morphing in and out of psychotic induced terror.

We arrive at DME...get out numb...unable to speak...what can you say after a trip like that?

He gets our packs out of the boot and dumps them with one last grin.

I cannot speak...but I can still hear music...gotta say he played some great Russian music...his face...laughing...those eyes...one hand on the wheel...filming my terror.

"I wonder what got into him that made him want to scare the crap out of us", Denise mutters as we enter the terminal.

I reckon I made his week...reckon he thought we had a great trip.

It certainly was a memorable one!

Ahh...travel...joy or terror...the highlight is often the people you meet.



Relax & Enjoy,

Dancing Dave

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Comments

[Home and Away]

Good grief!!!
I never knew that you lived such an adventurous life! How did you get shot in the back?! You are a survivor!

[Dancing Dave]

Good grief!!!
Never a dull moment Bob. Never liked the word "relaxing". Nor do I like reading or engaging with mobile phones while travelling lest I miss something. Yet with our Uber from VKO to DME I could not close my eyes for different reasons! Thanks for checking in.

[Tommy No Papers]

The Terror
Sometimes the best thing to do in those situations, whether it be plane turbulence or a lunatic driver, is just to close your eyes and think of it as a ride. Not much else you can do. At least you wouldn't have given the guy the satisfaction. Great story of travel terror, though!

[Dancing Dave]

The Terror
Not a time to close one's eyes Tommy though it may have worked if Denise was not in the back. I have a book titled 'Bad Trips' for bedside reading which prompted me to pen my Terror Tale which is well and truly up there. Glad you enjoyed the ride!

[Playagal]

The Terror...
Sweet Jaysus, I had to put on a seatbelt just to read this! What the hell...at least the Uber driver helped you with your luggage after that suicidal ride. Aww Dave, it makes for a great blog. That's what my hubby says when things happen to us. It'll make for a good blog. Glad you're safe. And I second Bob, what the F? Got shot in the back, robbed of your passport? I think you need to stay at home lad! :) Always a fan...Your Gal Sal :)

[Dancing Dave]

The Terror...
You are a master of words Sal...great comment that brought the laugh from within. May not have been fun at the time but great memories do not come from the dull or mundane. Like the taxi ride in Zigong Sthn China with Denise & our kids that did not make my blog...one hand on the wheel, ciggie in his mouth overtaking cars on blind bends on a wet greasy dirt road. We survived that one too!!!

[Ake Och Emma]

Not writing a story of my own
I was about to write down the story of a nightmare ride I had in a bus in Tunisia many years ago. But once I reas your story I decided not to. Even though I thought I was going to die that night in Tunisia, I have to admit your ride must have been a lot worse. Yikes! /Ake

[Dancing Dave]

Not writing a story of my own
Only yesterday I was reminded of a time I was climbing a volcanic extrusion called the Butterknife adjacent to the Breadknife in the Warrumbungles in NSW, when I suddenly went from the leeward to the windward and froze for fear of being blown off. Denise had to talk me down. That forgotten event was much more terrifying than the one I've just told. Please write your 'Terror in Tunisia' Ake, so it awakens the memory, lest it be forgotten if not told.

[D MJ Binkley]

Trippin'.... around the world
Dancing One you do seem to have trouble following you from one adventure to the next. I was tense the entire time I was reading. You do write with passion and intensity. Thank you for the word pictures! Travel memories..... and great stories.

[Dancing Dave]

Trippin'.... around the world
I found it interesting MJ that my bedside reading of "Bad Trips" described them as the most terrifying to the most uncomfortable...and even the most boring. You know Denise and I...we don't do boring!!! Thank you as you were the one that approached me in my Travelblog early days when blogging Mali to write stories to go with my photos. This blog is the result of your encouragement across the ether...pictures in words can be as vibrant as the most vivid photographs. And for this Terror story I posted some of my favourite portraits. If it wasn't for Travelblog and its colourful characters, like you guys,,,I wouldn't have the opportunity to do that. Thanks for your kind words...much appreciated.

[Ake Och Emma]

On 'Terror in Tunisia'
Actually, I have scanned the photos from Tunisia and plan to write blogs about that trip. If things go as planned these will be written within a few months. I will probably include the two scary stories, because the 'Terror in Tunisia' story is only one of two events that could have ended badly on that trip. /Ake

[Dancing Dave]

On 'Terror in Tunisia'
Bring it on Ake...may your writing be inspired.