It was a very, very cold night. So
cold that we all three of us decided to pile into Rich’s 2-man tent for extra
warmth. The mood in camp was already sombre as we were slowly coming to terms
with the tragic death of HufflePuff model student Cedric Digory.
Spirits were quickly lifted though back on the road when we offered a friendly wave to a young local lad. Instead of returning the favour, he flashed us the middle finger followed by the wanker sign. We all fell about laughing and the perky atmosphere was quickly restored.
Spirits were quickly lifted though back on the road when we offered a friendly wave to a young local lad. Instead of returning the favour, he flashed us the middle finger followed by the wanker sign. We all fell about laughing and the perky atmosphere was quickly restored.
By late morning we had crossed the border and we were in Kyrgyzstan. We came to the conclusion that no one goes to Kyrgyzstan because no one can pronounce or spell it. It’s one of those anonymous countries that in the modern age you hear very little about. Nonetheless, it was the fastest border crossing yet thanks to the technological ineptitude of their border guards.
One thing we quickly discovered about
the Kyrgyzstanis is that they are very lackadaisical about everything. Large
flocks of sheep are commonly strewn across the road making them impassable.
Rather than attempt to shepherd them out the way, the sheepherders just smile
and shrug at you as if to say “I probably could clear them for you but I can’t
really be arsed”. At least one guy showed some intent when he lobbed his stick
at one side of the sheep pack forging a semi path for us to cut through.
By the afternoon we arrived in Osh and
found a hostel. For the first time in a while we had a bed, wifi and a shower. Next
door was an Italian pizzeria named “Mafia Pizza” but upon enquiring we
discovered they were still advertising for a chef. Not backing our culinary
pizza tossing skills, we went out on the prowl for some dinner.
Before leaving, Rich took the sensible
yet massively overdue step of downloading the maps.me app. This so happens to
be the most comprehensive navigation app known to man and is what every
organised rally team bar none thought would best to acquire before starting. As
per, we were completely unaware of this indispensible piece of software and had
onlymanaged so far by sheeping it behind Team Thunderbirds and Team Two and a
Half Men. Feeling liberated by this breakthrough, we led the charge for the
first time in search of a restaurant. When we rounded a corner to find our
chosen restaurant closed, the sinking feeling was met by cackling laughter from
the rest of the convoy. Like mummy taking our hand and leading us back to the
swings, our compatriots took over, the normal state of play was resumed and we
slunk back into the following flock.
When we finally decided on a
restaurant, which simply asked do they serve food and do they have beer, we
headed in. Barely a second later Will, who had literally just said how he
didn’t think much of Osh, stubbed his big toe on a cunningly placed spike
opening up a large gash. Karma is a bitch. But in an unprecedented display of
mercy, a pharmacy was located barely 20m from where the incident occurred. A
very helpful lady then threw her entire pharmacy at his toe. Iodine solution,
antibiotics and a spoonful of Calpol later, Will’s toe (now triple the size
under layers of bandages), Will and the rest of us sat down for a thankfully
drama-less meal.
Posted by: Rich