Qon'irat - Mo'ynaq

On Monday morning (23.12.2019), for the first time, I get out of the car around seven o'clock. The tea from the night before is urgent. It's still freezing cold and the sunrise over the old town of Khiva, which is currently taking place, is hidden by a thick veil of clouds. So we get back into our Moskvitch and lie down for a few more hours. Around half past nine, it's time to get up for good. In front of our vehicle, a local is waiting for us, who seems to want to lure us into his house. I try to make it clear to the man that we basically have everything we need to start the day. He insists and can at least persuade Marcus to take a look at the offer. Shortly after brushing our teeth, I also sit on the padded kitchen floor and have breakfast with warm tea. Before we take a morning walk in the oasis town, Marcus lets himself be shown the actual house, which is apparently spacious but largely empty. Even in the immediate vicinity of the World Heritage Site, not all locals benefit from the tourist streams. Our brief visit to Khiva is rather short. Even within the city walls, a cold wind blows and the sun, which has now fought its way through the cloud cover, cannot provide enough warming radiation. Starting Schrotti runs smoothly and we drive to Urgench. Here we buy a little something and treat ourselves to a coffee and some popcorn. Then we continue northwest. The destination is the (former) port town of Mo'ynaq. On the way there, we stop again at Shylpyk, the remains of a fortress dating back about 2000 years. We climb up the hill near the Amu Darya and visit the remains of the weathered clay walls. The view of the surrounding desert landscape as well as down to the large flowing watercourse has its charm. However, due to the cold wind, it is not necessary to stay longer. Then we drive on to Nukus and stop at the Mega shopping center for a machine coffee and some pastries. By now, we also make several attempts until we find 'real' coffee. We are slowly getting tired of the often offered and frequently sweetened 3in1 powder. Sweet stuff. So we are quite satisfied because we have found what we were looking for and continue our journey. It is already dark again and so we organize a few liters of propane in Qon'irat and then look for a place for the night. While having dinner, we let Schrotti rumble a little more, and the night is already reaching out its icy fingers to us. Then Marcus retreats to his tent and I sleep in the car.

Overnight into Tuesday, temperatures around -12 °C were forecasted and all indications still suggest this in the morning. I had tried to sleep on the passenger seat instead of the back seat. That didn't pay off. My left foot kept falling asleep during the night and in the morning it took almost 2 hours for the feeling to return everywhere. Schrotti's windows are also covered with frost flowers all around, and our coolant is partially frozen despite the added antifreeze. I guess I was a bit too stingy with the mixture. While having breakfast (buttered bread with cheese and raspberry jam), we let Schrotti warm up. After a few minutes, I become curious and check the coolant. It is already warmer than expected and pours out in a fountain over the engine compartment after I remove the coolant reservoir cap. So I refill the reservoir again. A short time later, our fan behind the heat exchanger for the coolant stops working and the blue liquid once again finds its way to the outside. While Marcus is packing up his tent, I search for the problem, find it, and can report that everything is working again after replacing one of the many improvised cable connections. For the time being, we have to use some drinking water for cooling. Then we drive about 100 km to Mo'ynaq. In a small pub, we have a coffee (3in1, but at least hot) and inquire about buying coolant and sauna in the evening. Then we can organize some groceries, find a sauna, announce our visit for the evening, and then drive back to the other end of the town. Here we find antifreeze and drive back north to the former fishing port. The place seems quite sleepy, but obviously a lot is being built. We park Schrotti at a memorial for the disappearing Aral Sea and wander around the area. Where there was water half a century ago, there is now desert. Sand dunes and small dry bushes characterize the dreary picture. Here and there, a few old fishing boats are still standing, partly arranged in rows, partly as they probably ran aground decades ago. The wooden planks have been burned and otherwise stripped of everything valuable. The setting sun slowly bathes the scenery in soft evening light, and a cow returns from foraging to its resting place. Then we set up our tents near the shipwrecks, park Rango in Schrotti, and head to our sauna appointment. Instead of the man from the afternoon, a young woman opens the door to us. She informs us that today is not a sauna day. Very unfortunate. So we go directly to the pub from the afternoon for tea, two soups, and some shashlik. Two beers round off the meal, after all, it's Christmas Eve. Meanwhile, at the neighboring table, vodka is being enjoyed. One of the men had already talked to us a bit in the afternoon and now invites us to stay overnight in his nearby home. We agree. However, by the time we leave the pub, it is already after ten o'clock, and we decide not to bother anyone at such a late hour. We go to our campsite, although I reach my tent a bit earlier than expected. The light gusts of wind had pulled the tent pegs out of the sandy ground and blown my accommodation away. But I'm lucky, nothing is broken, and after a bit of searching, I find all the tent pegs again. After setting up the tent and placing the mattress, sleeping bag, and Rango inside, I go to Marcus again. He camps right next to the old fishing boats and has lit a Christmas fire in one of the hulls. So we sit there for a while, protected from the wind and warmed by the fire, in an otherwise quiet night.