Of Bus Stops, New Dresses and Bedbugs

Now we have done 4429km of the Silk Route and are in the 4th country. Kazakstan. The border crossing was seamless but the atmosphere was that of the ante chamber of a funeral home. There were border guards with guns and viscous looking dogs patrolling the area. I couldn't work out who would want to get in and who would want to get out. We still had 118km to cover to Semey where we would spend the next rest day. 

The transition from Siberia to Kazakstan was noticeable. The quality of the road went from three star Michelin to McDonalds. The scenery went from nothing to more nothing. The only interesting thing I could find to photograph was a bus stop made to look like a church. I don't know the philosophical significance of this.

The flatlands of Siberia was gone and changed to the steppes not unlike Mongolia and if possible more remote. 

We are gradually moving south so the temperatures are soaring to 30 plus C whilst on the road and also to warmer mornings. Nicer to crawl out of your tent without Arctic clothes and getting frostbite from folding your tent poles. 

The mosquitoes somehow diminished from man eating swarms to just the odd one to swat away from your thigh.

The city of Semey was the big surprise. Probably the most westernized city we have seen since leaving home. Lovely hotel and many restaurants, shopping malls and even an amusement park. I was so awed that I couldn't even write my blog. Therefor two blogs today. I bought a nice new blue dress with spring flowers (Edelweiss?) to wear in camp. 

Unfortunately swift fly the times on rest days and we were centrifuged into the Kazakstan boondocks again. Three difficult days on very rough tarmac including a ball busting 188km with headwinds. It was said to be the worst day of the trip and I certainly hope not to experience it again. Maybe in my next life when I get back as a migrating bird. Luckily one easy day of 98km which felt like a Sunday morning ride to a champagne breakfast. Tailwinds to blow you fast over all the potholes.

The next rest day in Usharal is where we are now in a flea ridden hotel about to fall apart. Probably no maintenance being done since the fall of the Soviet Union. If one looks very carefully there are signs of a former glory. Wallpaper, grandiose balconies and heavy wooden furniture. But one has not have to look very carefully to find bedbugs and worms on the stained mattresses.

Trip advisor counted the restaurants in the town and came to the total of zero. Do not come here for your honeymoon.