06 Aug Say goodbye to Kazakhstan
Last night was a big lightening storm and sunset over the steppe was actually very pretty.
A few of us discovered that our tents aren’t waterproof, like Pietro,
who described his night of swimming when we all joined up for coffee this morning.
The rain has continued, as have the carpet-bombed roads. Quiet folks from front to back today, with moods to match the weather.
At a gas station before Semey, Don pulled up to the pump and we all started to get out of the bus for a leg stretch and maybe buy a soda in the store, but the station security guard, who was carrying a pistol grip shotgun, told us we were not allowed off the bus. Period. So we could buy diesel, but only Don could leave the bus. Ah, just another reason we hate Kazakhstan–bizarre and random interactions with self-appointed authority.
Oh and the roads are back to vengeful gravel that threatens to loosen every jolt on the bus if taken at speeds faster than 14 kph. Just saw a sign that Semey was 156 kms away. Going to be a long day.
Ah, then around noon, the roads improved, the weather did likewise,
and so did our collective mood. Pietro improvised a dodgeball game inside the bus, and at a friendlier gas station, the happy guard posed for pictures with us, all smiles. Good and bad times, divided sometimes by mere minutes. And this led to the obvious next thing; where the roads returned to being made of angry rocks and the souls of passing motorists and our speed slowing back to the teens once again for the remainder of the day. Kazakhstan hate club meetings held on the bus 24/7.
We crossed the borders of Kaz and Russia around 10:30 pm. Both uneventful, thankfully, though the drug-sniffing Springer Spaniel did give our Lake Issykul dried fish a full investigation.
Tommy and Will took the long nigh shift, driving to within 100 kms of Barnaul before stopping just after 4am. Nothing like an overnight on the bus after three days of camping to make you feel fresh.