Today was a really early for a few reasons. We didn’t sleep really well because 1) it was cold as hell, and 2) the altitude was definitely getting to us. I’ve actually never been altitude sick before, but a splitting headache began setting in right as we went to bed. Before we left our camp site we decided to leave a gift for the next person who found that spot. 10 bottles of terrible Tajikistan wine. It takes a lot to throw away that much alcohol but after 2 trips to the store getting 6 bottles each time, we were all willing to cut our losses and never drink Tajikistan wine ever again. I did actually tuck one away in a bag which I didn’t find until about 6 months later. I’ll be saving that for a very special terrible occasion.
That’s when shit hit the fan. The guard pulled out his badge and started yelling at us about being border police and said if we didn’t pay we would have to go back to Murghab to get one. After everything we had been through it was clear to everyone that wasn’t fucking happening.
The first 80k of road weren’t terrible. The potholes were gone but the road was a little wavy. In a normal car that wouldn’t be a big deal but since our suspension was almost entirely shot the car felt like it was bouncing all over the place. Getting jostled around really helps with the altitude sickness… Eventually the car took one too many bounces and the spring that Mitch had fitted into the rear suspension popped out. That was a warning of what was to come as the roads took a turn for the worse. For the next hour we were driving on a washboard road, which is where the gravel and dirt is corrugated and somehow just stays like that. The result basically makes you feel like you’re inside a paint can shaker as your car is slowly rattled apart. The washboard eventually went away but then we had to start winding up and down the mountain, once again choking our poor little car of the airflow it needed to keep from overheating.
FINALLY it flattened out and we were all a little hungry, and fearing a long border wait we tried to find somewhere that looked like they served food as we passed through many (mostly) abandoned villages. We managed to get pretty lucky and saw a sign scrawled on a little ramshackle building. The sign was pointing at a tentso we decided to check it out. When we stepped inside we were surprised to find our Romanian motorcycle friends we had bumped into several times along the journey enjoying some tea. They told us you can order breakfast – breakfast being 2 eggs and some bread. And candy, though something the packaging was a little off…… Everything was pretty tasty, and it only costs everyone $1 a piece, and that was with a tip!
The Tajikistan/Kyrgyzstan border is a total joke, at least on the Tajiki side. Ryan was driving when we pulled in, so he hopped out to bring the guards our passports and car registration. A few minutes later Ryan came back asking for a very specific piece of paper that didn’t sound familiar at all. I had been pretty good at keeping all the paperwork from each country organized, and that one didn’t ring a bell. We were told it would cost us $30 if we couldn’t find it. I followed Ryan into this dingy shack which looked like something you’d find in Aleppo to talk to the guard. I asked what paper he was wanting, and he showed us something completely unfamiliar as it had a map on it with a route. It also appeared to be for semi-trucks and not passenger cars, so we told him we never got it at the border and asked to be on our way.
That’s when shit hit the fan.
The guard pulled out his badge and started yelling at us about being border police and said if we didn’t pay we would have to go back to Murghab to get one. After everything we had been through it was clear to everyone that wasn’t fucking happening. We tried again explaining again – nicely – that we were never given that paper and it was ridiculous to go back and get one, especially considering it was probably bullshit anyway. We were out of local currency so Ryan pulled out two $10s which the guy looked at and eventually said ok. Then shit hit the fan again because he found out Ryan wasn’t the owner of the car. That should have been obvious since his name wasn’t on the car’s registration, and the registration was tucked into my passport when it was handed to him. Now the guy was super confused and irritated, so he took our passports back and started looking at them and then back at us carefully, over and over. At a certain point he accused me of not being me, continually asking my name and details. While my passport is 9 years old, it’s still obviously me and with as many forms and visas I’ve had to fill out over the last six months I could recite everything on it backwards and forwards. Eventually he settled down and let us go. Not a single one of the guards had guns, it was clear this was an outpost for the lower troops on the totem pole.
“No man’s land” between the borders ended up being something like 15 miles long, which is an insane distance between 2 borders. We also had to wind all the way down from the mountains we were crossing on a super sketchy road that was muddy, steep and full of holes. It doesn’t really belong to anyone so no one maintains it. I also understand why Kyrgyzstan wanted their border so far away from Tajikistan, because as soon as it leveled out it got a lot greener and a lot prettier. The border process to get in was super easy, but very slow. One of the guards spoke fantastic English and he said that pretty much no one goes through that border, so when 10 rally cars show up all at once it’s the hardest they’ve had to work in a good while. Cool guys though.
The goal now was to get to Osh, which was about 3 and a half hours away. The roads were supposed to be great though, and outside of the first 20km from the border they were. We made pretty good time into Osh, getting there around 7ish. The only annoying part of the drive is that you’re still in a mountainous area, so you have to climb up which can be painfully slow in 1st gear, and then barrel back down without overheating your brakes. We made it into town and found a cheap hotel. Ryan had found a “Mexican” restaurant not too far from our hotel. It was…interesting. Mitch did his best to confuse the waitress trying to explain how to make tortilla chips even though she barely spoke English. Their salsa was weird, mostly because it wasn’t really salsa, more like some kind of sweet and sour dipping sauce but hey, we’re in Kyrgyzstan.
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