06 Aug Eastern Kazakhstan
We spent a nice night camping at ye another scenic landfill, waking early to continue onward to Semey. Finding suitable campsites is yet another of Sarita’s jobs, and she has a knack for finding the right combination of elements we need for wild camping with the added considerations requires for the bus.
Criteria include being far enough from town not to be an attractive nuisance to local teens, far enough from the road and hopefully tucked behind some natural feature to make us less noticeable to passing motorists, and also not obviously on private property or too near homes. And of course ensuring we don’t bog down in sand or drive across tire-puncturing obstacles is vital. Some nights this is harder to find than others, but Sarita always seems to put us in a good spot.
The roads have been hit or miss from Almaty north. Sometimes we get pretty decent stuff, where we can run a consistent 50 kph and then there will be long stretches of washboard and potholes on the skinny, unmarked pavement where we can only manage 20 bone-rattling kph, dropping to 0 for the worst. Slow going, still very hot despite the altitude, but the views of the steppes alongside are quite nice.
Thanks to our very early start this morning, we had a real treat–a sit down lunch in a roadside restaurant. We realized that it was our first restaurant lunch since our day off in Odessa, which seems a lifetime ago.
Quite a few of us chose the dumplings, called mahkti, but Don was bold and asked a nearby patron for his recommendation, which Sarita also chose. Caroline selected the goulash, pronounced as very tasty by our waitress.
Don and Sarita’s meals were flat noodles with bits of meat and fat, served with a broth. Not bad, but i suspect they were secretly hoping for a horse penis sticking up out of their plates!
We’ve just seen the worst toilet in all of Kazakhstan. It was so bad that when Caroline went on a reconnaissance mission to check it out, the look of horror on her face could be seen from the bus. Sarita and I raced to get on shoes so we could document it. And so worthwhile: at first it just looks like a regular outhouse, perched high on a concrete platform. But as you approach, the true nature of this toile is revealed. There is a 3’x2′ gap directly in front that permits an unobstructed view of the contents below the squatter, then a large “regular” opening toward the rear of the room, covered in unspeakable deposits, drawing the expected flies. Impressive. A 12 on the 10 scale of horror.
