Oshpitality 4

Uzbekistan!

There's something exciting about going to a new country, especially one that you know very little about.

Despite Uzbekistan being smack bang in the middle of Central Asia, and despite the fact that I've only ridden about 50 clicks or so in from from the Kyrgyz border today, it suddenly feels so different here.

I mean, it's still Central Asia of course, it's still a little wild and a little chaotic, and it's still hot and dusty. But this place feels a bit smoother, and a little bit wealthier. Some of the shops are a little ritzier than anything I've seen since Bishkek.

And all of the signs are in Latin script. Yay!

Despite the fact that I've been getting my head around the Cyrillic script slowly anyway, Latin is so much quicker, even though I still have to translate the words. And there's also some English signs here.

And what an amazing thing to do, to travel to a new and unexplored land, when it also happens to be the occasion of my 61st birthday!

Yes! The universe keeps delivering!

I could be shrivelled up and lonely in a cheap apartment in some grey city somewhere, but here I am instead, sitting having a cold and strong raspberry-flavoured tea and some (slightly dodgy) kartoschka somsas (basically little potato pastries) in some random town in Uzbekistan.

The world really dishes it up, I can tell ya.

Smooth Crossing

I cycled off from Osh late morning today, and it really didn't take too long to get close to the Uzbek border. As I approached, a massive line of parked lorries appeared, and stretched for at least a kilometre back from the crossing, their drivers milling about waiting for something to happen, but appearing to accept the fact that nothing much was.

As for me, I was just shepherded past the whole lot, zipping along on my bike, feeling a little guilty that I get to zoom past with a minimum of fuss, just because I'm a foreigner and I happen to be on a bicycle.

I was able to avoid the usual pedestrian and bus passenger queues when I arrived, and just joined the small handful of truck drivers waiting to get stamped out at Kyrgyz passport control.

But I needed to wait there for awhile, because the border guard just up and left, without a word of explanation or apology, while the drivers and I waited patiently in line. He came back some time later, and silently continued his job.

The drivers were a friendly bunch.

It was pretty smooth on the Uzbek side. Despite the presence of an x-ray machine at the customs counter, which everyone else was required to use, I was just directed straight to the customs counter, probably because the guy wanted to have a chat in English.

He asked me what I was carrying, I told him the usual story - camping gear, food, bike tools, etc, and then he said, "do you have any drugs?", to which I replied, "yeah, I've got a bunch of heroin, some cocaine, and a kilo of the most kick-arse hooch from Afghanistan that will blow your brains out, if you care to partake!"

He burst out laughing, and we zipped out the back and fired up.

Ok, ok.

No we didn't.

I said, "of course I don't have drugs," which he seemed to totally believe on face value, the gullible bastard.

Actually he was really sweet, like a big cuddly Uzbek brown bear, without the nasty sharp claws and teeth.

He let me through without even laying a clean finger on my dusty possessions.

So that was that. My Kyrgyz journey was suddenly at an end. I'd been travelling through the place for over a month, and already want to come back.

A New Land

It was all a little buzzy on the Uzbek side, with lively markets and quite busy eating houses, and friendly dudes trying to sell me SIM cards, or rid me of my Kyrgyz currency, as it's not tradeable outside Kyrgyzstan.

But being the seasoned traveller slash haggler that I am, I managed to eventually negotiate a decent enough exchange rate, to give my chosen currency dealer a small profit, but not too much.

I had a cold drink, and inserted an Uzbek SIM into my phone, which a couple of Italian travellers had given me yesterday, and which has about a week left on it.

So I had cash, I had internet, and I had a direction to head.

I was ready to rock and roll.

It was a smooth ride here. For the first 30 clicks or so the road was a dream, and for the last 20 it was more predictably potholey, particularly on the edges (where I'm forced by the traffic to ride), and ya just gotta keep yer wits about ya.

Just like the "tarmac" roads had been in Kyrgyzstan.

But I made quite good time, because it was a slight downhill pretty much all the way, from the roughly 1000m elevation of Osh, to about 500m here in Andijon, a city of around 400,000 people.

Not that I'm in a hurry.

The Kyrgyz border, this time from the Uzbek side.

Roadside corn, drying and collecting fuel particulates, for flavour

Roadside drinks are ubiquitous, especially when it's hot. Sharbat is a rose flavoured drink, ayron a sour yoghurt drink.

I rolled into Andijon. It was happenin.

I found a hotel, showered and rested, had a snack, and visited the markets that are, fortuitously, right in my street.

Parking spot round the back.

Rat trap. Or maybe it's a bear trap. I didn't see any critters.

Lunch snack

The markets were really good, the fresh produce was super high quality.

Local witch smudging the bad spirits away. I've seen this a few times around this part of the world.

More delicious fizzy apple/caramel homemade drink.

I thought about a birthday cake for myself, I love the style but this was a bit big.

Or one of these.

But to be honest, it was so hot, it really didn't feel like cake weather.

Better than an improper one I guess.

And now I'm sitting in this large and slightly air conditioned café/eating place, really enjoying myself, and feeling like the most blessed person on the planet.

Blessd that is, not bless-ed.