The ‘Marshall Plan’

Another dull day in the office. In fact, since that stupid Rally has entered my consciousness with it’s promises of silly adventures in countries your average American citizen probably couldn’t spell, let alone find on a map, most days in the office now seem that little bit duller. If that’s at all possible.

Ah. An email from Mr Miller it seems. This had better be something entertaining.

His latest message informs me I’d better check my personal accounts as there may be something there of great interest to me. And by the way, I’d better damn well do it now.

Mini. With a phonebox on top. What?

I log into my Yahoo mail and search for what exactly has got Gareth into such a state. There’s not much, just the usual dozen or so offers for ‘Che_ap V1Agr@’. Oh and a message from the Adventurists mailing list, which seems to be asking if I’d like to be a Marshall at this years start line.

Cool. That sounds jolly fun. I mean, if I can’t do the Rally, then at least being involved at the start would be ni……hold on. What’s this? If I apply and they decide to accept me as a Marshall, then as a small reward I’ll automatically get a place reserved for 2009?

Jesus Christ!

What follows is possibly the fastest email reply I’ve ever written in my life. Of course I want to be a Marshall you damned fools! Sign me up! In fact, if you want, I’ll even pay for the privilege. How much would you like? A hundred? Two hundred perhaps? Maybe my sister? By the way, sorry about the shite spelling as I’ve just written this in 2.4 seconds flat.

Having decided to calm my nerves with a cuppa, I return to my desk to find several further mails from Gareth, each one getting steadily shorter and more abusive whilst asking if I’d indeed read the important message and had I replied to it in the affirmative. I tap out my own equally polite reply setting his mind at rest and sip my tea, dreaming of far off lands. The back yard of a Mr G. Khan in particular.

Another couple of weeks pass by and I’ve heard nothing with regards to my Marshall’s application. It would seem that to the mysterious Adventurists people, I don’t possess the required ‘stuff’, the nerves of steel and razor sharp mind they require to help them herd a couple of hundred shit cars out of Hyde Park on a Saturday morning. Nor has the offer of my sister helped. And I must admit this hurts a little. Still, the raging cynic that lives in my head inevitably pops by for a chat and is soon consoling me.

“It’s a pipe dream Dan, don’t get your hopes up. Go and have a nice cup of tea, spend some time on Facebook when you should be working and forget aaaaall about it”.

Wow. Thanks cynical Dan, you’re such a pal. Fancy a cuppa seeing as you’re here?

The tea does indeed help. And I return to my desk to find I have a missed call on my mobile. It’s Gareth. Now what could he want that requires an actual phone call? Ho hum, only one way to find out I suppose. Ring him back. And it had better be good, this will be using up valuable minutes from my contracted monthly allowance.

Lines of crap cars....

It’s ringing.

“We’re in”

“What?”

“We’re IN!”

“Miller, what are you on about? In what?”

“The fucking rally you knob. We’re. In. The. RALLY!”

“YOU WHAT??”

Eventually it is determined that he is neither mad, lying or even remotely drunk. He has indeed recieved an email from The Adventurists telling him they’d be most delighted if he’d care to join them in Hyde Park on Saturday the 19th of July 2008 and assist them in Marshalling some cars or other.

Bloody hell! That means we’re a 2009 Mongol Rally team! Well, technically anyway.

The walk back to my desk is accompanied by a silly grin. If there was a slight reluctance to get stuck into work beforehand, the chances of being productive now are practically zero. First stop? Well, it has to be my ol’ pal eBay and some crap car research.

Fast forwarding 2 months, Mr Miller’s appearance at Hyde Park for the start of the 2008 Mongol Rally thankfully goes without a hitch (ie. no oversleeping due to being pissed up the previous evening) and the Saturday morning is peppered with texts and picture messages from the launch. Including a picture of some lunatics in a Red Routemaster bus that has had the roof removed and replaced with a ‘sun deck’ and a lime green Mini, with a fibreglass reproduction Red Phone Box on the roof.

More details follow when we return to the boozer later that afternoon,  along with details of just how far the legend of the rally has spread. Several of the Marshalls on the day having come in from overseas to ensure they get that place for next year. Indeed Gareth himself having been teamed up with a guy who has flown in from the USA and has admitted that should he take part, he’ll be missing his first wedding anniversary.

Deep down I’m delighted that it seems like our kind of people will be doing this adventure. And by our kind of people, I mean idiots.

The off!

Right’o. So, what’s next then? Team name perhaps?