How we found the Aral Sea, ate Camel meat and got ourselves in a spot of trouble.
I will just start this post by apologising if it unfairly puts Uzbekistan in a bad light. It was probably not Uzbekistan’s fault that we had such a rough time of it, but we have blamed the country purely on circumstantial evidence – we were fine before and have been since! This doesn’t encompass the Uzbeks themselves, as they were warm and friendly. And there’s more than likely a massive part we ourselves played in making things difficult for ourselves, as will become clear.
It started with a seven-hour border crossing, which in the burning midday sun was not one of the finer moments we’ve had on the trip, it must be said. (more…)
You have driven hundreds of kilometres all day on dirt tracks, corrugated and potholed tarmac roads, been stopped five times by the police for ‘documents’, then an unfamiliar noise emanates from the engine bay. Your still 10 km outside of an unfamiliar town looking for somewhere to stay that has secure parking and won’t blow your daily budget. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need that damn (delete as appropriate) Visa/Registration Document/Permit/Customs Form/Flight Ticket/Spare Part. It’s the usual battle.