Alexander’s river

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When I woke up, I was greeted by heavy rain. So I went back to sleep. Two hours later, the rain had gone, only the clouds were still there:

It was very windy.

I crossed the river Syr Darya at this bridge:

Wasn’t allowed to take any pictures of the river itself and had my stuff checked at a checkpoint on the bridge, but still. Seeing a place that Alexander the Great had seen felt somehow magical:


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Once I had crossed the river, this dude handed me a fish:

It was a nice fish:

I kept walking, while the clouds kept rolling across the sky:

Once I stopped at a little shop to get some water:

The owner gave me a pen and showed me this pillar:

All kinds of travelers had signed, so I drew a little bearded face and put a date next to it:

Hello, other travelers!

I stuck to the sidewalk for most of the day (as long as there was a sidewalk):

One time I stopped at a restaurant and asked them for the menu:

They said all they had was shashlyk. By this point, I had grown tired of shashlyk and the culinary misery it represented. But what was I to do?

So I ordered some shashlyk, some onions and some bread, and I somehow got all of it in a plastic bag because the people at the restaurant had figured that I wanted it to-go:

I hated it, but I ate it.

Then I got back on the road:

And then, right when the sun was about to set behind an explosion of clouds on the horizon, I started feeling sick:

But I made it to the village of Baht, found a dude standing in his driveway and asked him if I could park the Caboose there overnight. Then I hopped in a car and went back to the hotel where I had stayed the night before.

I didn’t like doing this, but I did it anyway because I wanted to make sure that my hotel registrations were in perfect oder so my next visa application would not run into any difficulties.

Once I got to the hotel (remember, it was next to the fish market in Chinaz), the ladies who were selling fish on the roadside recognized me from the night before:

Don’t let their serious looks fool you – they were having a good laugh.

“Where are you coming from now, and what happened to your handcart?” they asked, and when they heard my story, they gave me a fish:

Lovely people everywhere.

And since I wasn’t feeling sick anymore, I went to a small restaurant next to the fish market. It had a nice, warm oven:

I ordered some fish:

And it was one of the most tasty things I had ever tried.

In my life.

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