The cars are painted.
A renowned Hungarian graffiti artist named Nikon was supposed to do it. He agreed to work for free if we provided the paint, which was kindly donated by Angelo and Jordi from Montana Colours in Barcelona.

But the little rat changed his tune - ignoring our calls, not getting back to us and basically acting like a twat for four days.
We were given 40 cans for free but when we finally got through to Nikon he decided he was a superstar and wouldn’t do it unless we paid him a further 70 cans – worth about €350.
The bell-end made us chase him around for nothing.
“He’s a dick” was Carlos’s succinct analysis.
We’ve launched a hate campaign online where we’re barraging graffiti forums with lewd mock-ups of Nikon fellating squirrels.



Luckily Johnny, a German bike courier living at the house we’re staying in, is a handy artist and agreed to bring his crew in.
So he, along with his mates Nandi and Luca, did a few sketches and went at the cars. We plied them with beer and they worked into the early hours on the street, listening to hip-hop and smoking.



We’re pleased with the results – I particularly like the rising sun, but Tony P prefers the psychedelic one, ‘I think it looks like little devils burning in hell’. Each to their own.
We’ve yet to agree on names, but the clapped out Mercedes support car is almost certainly a G¸nter.

Now the paint job’s done we can get on with applying for our China visas, which require images of the cars.

All three of the cars are a little sporadic. There’s already been plenty of dead batteries and jump starts and getting into one is always a bit of a lottery.