Hat, shades, sunblock . . . Nina Rooke and Lorraine Hutchison are getting ready for their summer break. But it’s clear this is no ordinary package holiday. The largest item to be packed is Arnold, a 5ft-tall stuffed monkey. “We are taking two jerry cans for petrol,” says Rooke, “and a serious toolkit.” “A box of food for absolute emergencies,” adds Hutchison. “Noodles and Haribo. Lots of Haribo.”

Towards the end of next month, Rooke and Hutchison will be on their way to Ulan Bator, the capital of Mongolia. It would be an esoteric choice for a backpacking trip armed with a Rough Guide and bucket shop ticket. That, however, would be too easy. This pair are driving the 10,000 miles over some of the world’s worst roads and least welcoming countries in a 19-year-old Fiat Panda named Bobo the Monkeytank.

This is despite the fact that Rooke, who is originally from Windsor in Berkshire, but has lived in Glasgow for six years, has never owned a car. They are equally unconcerned that the sky blue Monkeytank lost its exhaust on its inaugural run to London.

The pair have signed up for the Mongol Rally and are joining 200 or so teams of what could politely be called adventurers in search of the kind of excitement you just can’t get on a Greek sunlounger.

The rally was started by Tom Morgan who based it on an ill-fated Prague-Mongolia trip he took in a Fiat 126 five years ago. He now runs the annual event from the hall cupboard in his flat in Cambridge. Rules are pretty fluid. As long as your car is a hunk of junk with an engine of less than 1,000cc and you are prepared to auction it for charity when — and if — you make it to Ulan Bator, you are welcome to take part. There is no set route, fixed itinerary or help along the way. You pay your entry fee and you are on your own.

Rooke, 32, a civil engineer with Mott MacDonald in Glasgow, first encountered the rally in October. “I can’t even remember where I first heard the name but I thought, I know who would be up for that.” She arrived to meet friends at Greyfriars Bobby Bar in the Merchant City with only one thing in mind. “She said, I’ve found this amazing thing on the internet, do you want to do it with me?” recalls Hutchison. “And I said yes, sure.”

Hutchison, 26, also a civil engineer, met Rooke four years ago. Having travelled to Rio for carnival and spent the night camping in a “dodgy bothy in a blizzard”, they believe they can survive five weeks of deserts, mountains and dirt tracks in an E-reg hairdryer.

Since talking each other into it eight months ago, they have bought the vehicle (£150 on eBay), taken a car maintenance course at Anniesland college, planned their route (a controversial one through Afghanistan and Iran), applied for a fistful of visas, charmed Halfords and Kwik-Fit into helping them out with sponsorship and raised £3,500 for the event’s chosen charities.

The absence of rules makes much of the rally a rather vague affair. “There is not really a winner but you do get various points for different bits and pieces,” says Rooke. “The team that takes the biggest and most useless item wins extra points, so I thought maybe we could take a huge stuffed monkey. I went on to Freecycle (a website for exchanging unwanted items) and there he was, a 5ft stuffed monkey. The lady who gave him to us is delighted we are taking him to Mongolia. A friend has told us about an orphanage outside Ulan Bator, so we are going to drop him off there.”

That is assuming they get to Ulan Bator — there is an 80% drop out rate. Their chosen route — through mainland Europe to Turkey, then around the Black Sea coast to Iran, Afghanistan, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan and Russia before the final trek across Mongolia to Ulan Bator — will bring hazards both manmade and natural.

Iran and Afghanistan are both on the Foreign Office’s list of countries not to travel to under any circumstances, and Uzbekistan is on the only slightly less intimidating list of countries not to travel to unless absolutely essential.

Afghanistan is surely not the place for two western women, even if they are wearing headscarves and long sleeves? But Rooke and Hutchison are adamant that their route through the more stable northern provinces is safe. “As long as we are sensible and respectful I think we’ll be okay,” says Rooke. “We’ve done a lot of research.” But their parents are are worried. Rooke’s father has been trying to talk her out of going.

“We will know we have made it when we plant our Scotland flag up in Ulan Bator,” says Rooke. “However we get there, whatever happens. There is a strong possibility the car will break down and we’ll have to sell it and get another. But that will be equally challenging and exciting.”

What’s the worst thing that could happen? “We break down in Carlisle.” They both burst into a fit of giggles. “But if it’s anything fixable, I’m sure we’ll be able to cope.”

www.mongolrally.com

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