Saturday 13th August
In
what was a rare occurrence up until this point on the rally, we had a bit of
spare time in Bukhara to sightsee before lunch. We were told that the Blue
Mosque and what a Canadian rallier referred to as the “Death Tower” (but is
actually the Kalyan Minaret), were the must-sees of the city so we went out in
search of them.
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| The "Death Tower" |
Once
back on the road again we headed towards the mountainous region in the east. At
first the roads weren’t too bad but their smooth and straight feel was about to
prove to be a stinging illusion for Rich. Whilst queuing at a set of traffic
lights, a local taxi driver decided he was tired of following the Highway Code and
fancied himself in a one-man rebellion. On a green light he slammed on the
brakes for no apparent reason bringing Team Thunderbirds and Team Two and a
Half Men to an abrupt stop yards in front of us. Unfortunately for us this had
coincided with a patch of tarmac smoother than Sean Connery’s conditioner. With
an absence of ABS on the brakes, Marigold entered an uncontrollable skid before
bashing into the back of Two and a Half Men. As the bonnet sprung up impairing
the view of the driver, a tense silence descended upon the car only for it to
be broken by “oh for f*ck sake” from the lips of Rich. Whilst we sat there idle in the middle of the road, head
in hands, we thought the end was nigh.
Easyjet return flights, extortionate scrap charges and a lifetime of bitterness for destroying the Mongolian dream flashed through my mind as we limped over to the side of the road. Agitated by the events of the last 5 minutes, the last thing any of us wanted was a chirpy Uzbeki local vying for a selfie with the car. Luckily he chose to antagonise Alf rather than Rich otherwise he’d have been on the receiving end of a backhanded bitch slap (and they really are rare). Cries of “M-M-MEDIC” were heard as Marigold’s bonnet was popped and the damage was assessed. Miraculously, apart from a buckled bonnet and the air horn now playing all the right notes in the wrong order, there was no serious damage to the radiator or engine. Everyone took great delight in issuing Rich a famous strike bringing his tally up to ten for the trip – no need for the DSP on that one. With a blast of what was now Morecambe and Wise’s version of the la cucaracha horn and sporting her own beauty pageant ratchet sash to hold the bonnet down, Marigold mustered all of her strength and we resumed.
Easyjet return flights, extortionate scrap charges and a lifetime of bitterness for destroying the Mongolian dream flashed through my mind as we limped over to the side of the road. Agitated by the events of the last 5 minutes, the last thing any of us wanted was a chirpy Uzbeki local vying for a selfie with the car. Luckily he chose to antagonise Alf rather than Rich otherwise he’d have been on the receiving end of a backhanded bitch slap (and they really are rare). Cries of “M-M-MEDIC” were heard as Marigold’s bonnet was popped and the damage was assessed. Miraculously, apart from a buckled bonnet and the air horn now playing all the right notes in the wrong order, there was no serious damage to the radiator or engine. Everyone took great delight in issuing Rich a famous strike bringing his tally up to ten for the trip – no need for the DSP on that one. With a blast of what was now Morecambe and Wise’s version of the la cucaracha horn and sporting her own beauty pageant ratchet sash to hold the bonnet down, Marigold mustered all of her strength and we resumed.
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| Marigold sporting her new blue sash |
If we thought the roads would get any
better they didn’t. They were terrible. By this point it had become dark and it
was late into the night before we found a hotel we could potentially stay at.
But there was to be no room at the Inn. Sensing our desperation, a local man
offered us his house and garden, which we gladly accepted. It would’ve been
ideal had it not been for the swarm of flies and 3 am wake up call from a
cackling cockerel. Imagine the most irritating alarm you’ve ever heard and then
re-imagine that out of reach and without a snooze button. Having to explain to
the kind gentleman why he was late for work that day was the only thing
preventing me from ripping its throat out.
Posted by: Rich