Finally arrested

We drive the whole day only interrupted for stops for food, water, petrol or a change of driver or a combination of them. At 3:30 we reach kungrad and it is decided we are going to spend the rest of the night here. Most sleep in the car, Drew and I sleep outside on my tarp and mats. Although not for too long I sleep quite well. The cars have had a beating by the rough road and we find a place to have the cars, especially the sj, repaired. In the meantime everybody has a shower and some time to relax in the sun. Halfway the afternoon we get back on the road again. Just after midnight of the 16th we have a short stop to drink some tea. I am congratiolated with my 33rd birthday by all the people who were not asleep and we buy some waffles as birthday cake. After that we get going until Buchara, which we reach around 12:00. Miraculously we bump into the Americans, who had spent the night a few hundred meters before our stop. This is already the second time we see them after our separation. Samarkand is not to far a way anymore and after a few hours we check into a proper hostel, with beds, hot water and nice food. Everybody is dead tired and all except me go to sleep. I have a quick visit of the famous town on the silk route. I am disappointed. Although there are beautiful buildings, they all are quite detached from the rest of the city. On my way back to the hostel I see a shoe repairman and ask him if he can mend my shoes. There is a hole in my left shoe and both shoes are slanted at the heels. He indicates me it is not a problem. As soon as I hand over my left shoe he takes his knife and starts cutting of the whole rubber sole. Now there is no way back and I let him have his go at my once great boots. It all takes more time than I expected and I make clear I will be back later and barefooted I return to the hostel to have a shower. When I return my shoes are ready, but they look monstrous. They used to be a size 43 but now soles of size 45 are fitted underneath. They do not walk great either.

All gather in the courtyard at eight to have a toast on my birthday and I have brought some proper cake to celebrate. We start with chacha and I get a glass full, while the others only a bottom, the foundation of my drunkenness. After another one and 2 vodkas we head for a restaurant. I am not sure all what happened there. Fact is that the next day I could not remember we had been served food and my shirt was wet. Although the plan was to get going again at a decent time we only leave around 18:30. At some point we get lost a bit (I was navigating) and I ask for directions. Because of the language barrier it takes a while before I get the message across and what the directions are. In the end they suggest we follow a car who will lead us to the proper road. We end up driving behind him for a quarter of an hour and when we stop he is happy he could have helped us. We feel like superstars also because everywhere we stop dozens of people surround the cars and motorbike. In Tashkent we get lost again and this time a taxi driver leads us the way out of the city. He drives in the middle of the road with emergency lights on as if we are a special convoy.

Then at 8:00 we get a serious roadblock. We already had several of them before, but most of the time we just kept driving even if they signaled us to stop. Only once our passports were checked. Although the policeman thought it strange I had no visa and he had to check with someone on the phone he told us to carry on. This time it is different though.

Several superiors are called to the case and I plea my case for more than an hour to them, the time comes to say goodbye to my fellow travellers. I try to put up a brave and happy face, but I feel sad to let them go. My bike and bag is taken off the SJ and all my other stuff is gathered as well. There is time to get everybody's email and to take a picture and a quick goodbye, but then I am loaded in to the back of a flatback army truck. Slowly my friends get smaller in the distance.

After a mad drive, the driver obviously does not mind the huge bumps and holes in the road, I arrive in Angern. I am interrogated for a while, with the help of an interpreter. They cannot believe i got in the country without a visa, without bribing anybody. they talk about deporting me to Holland, to which I protest vehemently, by telling them it was their fault they let me in and that I do not want to carry the consequences. They leave me, in the room for a couple of hours and admit later pn they had forgotten about me. I guess they do not know what to do with me. They put me in the truck again and drive me to Akhangaran. The truck breaks down halfway,which does not surprise me, considering his driving. Eventually in Akhangaran I wait in the courtyard of an unfinished building for a couple of hours. Propably I was waiting to be officialy carried over from the army to the police, because after I am taken by police officers to a police station. No one in the station speaks any English, it is already dark when a local English teacher is introduced to help to interpret. For the so four or fifth time I explain what happened. The situation will not be sorted out to night, so two officers take me out to a restaurant for dinner. For the night I have to sleep on a small bench and I share the roomwith an old smelly dog, but I do not smell to great either. The next day I am taken to an other office to get some signatures. When back at the police station I am asked to take the phone to talk to a woman who speaks English. She tells me I will be brought to Kazakhstan later that day. The day goes by but nothing happens. In the evening I am going out for dinner again, this time with the officer who is responsible for my case and his wife or mistress. When at the restaurant I am given the phone again to talk to the English speaking lady again. She tells me that I will be brought to Kazakhstan the next day.