Flashmen Return

Alistair and Silver Flashy post introduction to Kyrgyz lorry

It has been sometime since Flashmen updated their online presence.

The last their legions of supporters & sympathisers may remember is news of a crash in mid-August 2006 when Flashmen Boyd careened Silver Flashy into the back of a monstrous, weaving, junk lorry in the thin strip of land between the Ala-Too mountain range (Kyrgyzstan’s sliver of the Mountains of Heaven) and Bishkek.

Constabulary arrived and some day-tripping Russian diplomats dropped in to help but the upshot was we were to drive the vehicle away and to return the following day with a translator.

Our response to this request coalesced around a number of other facts:

1)      Kyrgyzstan is the only capital in Central Asia without a British Embassy (instead there is one across the boarder in Kazakhstan’s Almaty)

2)      The policemen had arrived in a plain clothes vehicle and then donned caps, their only apparent item of uniform

3)      Flashmen Boyd had a frankly impressive head injury

4)      Silver Flashy had lost about 6 inches of length through the impact and was patently not going anywhere; and crucially,

5)      A taxi we’d ordered arrived

…at which point we bid a swift, but fond farewell to the Krygyz Highway Patrol, informing them that I was Sir Joshua Wylie and contactable on my Chinese mobile number.

On reaching Bishkek we managed via satellite phone back to a Russian speaking friend in China to secure a brain-scan for Alastair. The cost for this was initially estimated by the surgeon at US$50, which dropped immediately to US$25 upon Craig splashing out with the 50% of his Russian vocabulary which means ‘too expensive’.  In no way should this be taken as a commentary on the size or quality of Boyd’s brain.

The result of all of this was that we lost one vehicle and some literary momentum. I was also due back at work so had to wing it for Beijing the following day, leaving Craig and a concussed Alastair to drive the mere 5,000 final kilometres to Ulaan Baatar alone. They arrived just as the free drinks ran out at the finsh party a week later.

Since then Flashmen have reunited from time to time to keep the spirit alive and, when not reliving past glories, are to be found ergasiophobically planning new excursions.