Tashkent III

On Monday morning, December 30, 2019, it's drizzling slightly as I open the buttons for the first time. Junkie's tin roof amplifies the dripping sound. When I reluctantly have to leave my cave shortly after nine, I hardly notice any precipitation. But in the distance, I can make out two green figures moving purposefully toward my location. Nevertheless, I retreat to our car again. A short time later, just as I was falling asleep again, there's a knock on the window, Rango barks and I have to get up again. Two militia officers introduce themselves and the older one starts a seemingly casual conversation, asking me this and that. In passing, he asks for my ID and the reason for my stay. I don't need to wake Marcus up from his tent, my story seems plausible. So I can lie down again (partially) on Junkie's back seat until it's finally time for a small breakfast around eleven. That's when a flat right rear tire catches my eye. So we need some air before continuing our journey. Some locals passing by can't help directly, but assure us that we will find what we need in the next village. After reloading our Russian vehicle, we drive towards Karaultepa. I approach a few young men at one of the first houses. We are asked to bring our Moskvich to the neighbor. He's probably not home, but they know where the pump is and take care of inflating the tires right away. After the job is done, we are even invited for lunch, as it's already past noon. But since our breakfast wasn't that long ago and we still have a long way to go to Tashkent, we decline with thanks and set off again after taking a few selfies. We arrive in the outskirts of Tashkent without any major incidents. Junkie is purring and our tires keep enough air. In the late afternoon, we reach the first outskirts of Tashkent, have a coffee, organize some cash, and buy something for the evening. Then we go to the Ibsa Hostel, check in, and I take a walk with Rango. Then I go to a barber, I want to start the new year with a little less disheveled hair. I have to wait for a moment, then a very young man takes care of me. He looks like twelve, the boy. We agree on a haircut, but when asked if he should also take care of my beard, I initially react hesitantly. After watching him carefully care for my hair for a while, I give him permission to maintain my full beard as well. It was a good decision, as I wouldn't have been able to do it myself with the same quality. The rest of the evening involves some training, a shower, and some kitchen work. We decided to have spaghetti Bolognese and bought some minced sheep meat for it. It works very well in the dish, and the remaining red wine, which couldn't fit in the full saucepan, adds a little something to the meal. Because of a late washing machine, I'm not in bed until well after midnight.

On Tuesday, right after breakfast, we are on our way to the Turkmenistani embassy. We want to pick up our transit visas. Unfortunately, we have no luck, the establishment is closed today. So Marcus sets off in search of a new hat and I, after wandering aimlessly and having a hot drink, head back to Ibsa. While going for a walk with Rango, I buy the essentials for the next two evenings and then braid a new leash for Rango out of pieces of string I found. During afternoon coffee, Marcus returns to the hostel. We cook pea soup and spend a cozy New Year's Eve. I take Rango for a walk. Fortunately, there's not much going on in terms of fireworks and loud noises in the area. So Rango can spend a relaxed night in the car, while just before midnight I head to the center of Tashkent with Marcus and a few other hostel residents.

We reach the city center punctually at midnight. There's plenty of activity, but it seems that everyone is already on their way home. Even in terms of fireworks, the effort made is limited. So we toast with a few strangers, wish each other 'С новым годом!', and while the first hour of Wednesday (01.01.2020) passes by, we set out in search of a club or bar. Guided by the other hostel residents, we end up in front of a club where we are supposed to pay $100 to enter. Far beyond our budget. This first attempt causes most of the companions to suddenly feel spontaneous fatigue. Everyone except Marcus and me suddenly wants to go home. We don't give up so easily and stroll through nighttime Tashkent for a while longer. With the help of his daughters' translation, we learn about the Temple Pub from a young father. The club is on our way home anyway. Once we arrive there, we can go in and spend a few hours. There's not much going on. The dancing scantily clad Uzbek woman on the bar furniture promised more upon arrival than the bar can deliver. Nevertheless, we look back on a quite entertaining night in the early hours of the morning as we make our way back to Ibsa. The metro hasn't started operating yet and we have to walk the 4 km. The city is almost silent and empty. Very unusual, as we have only experienced the streets and paths so far full of cars, people, and noise. When we arrive at the hostel, the sky slowly turns blue. So I take a walk with Rango and enjoy the peace and the dawn around seven. Back in the hostel kitchen, I wait a few more minutes to see if someone might make an effort to have breakfast, but eventually I go to bed around eight without having breakfast. It's later in the afternoon when I'm awakened again. After a small brunch, I take a walk in sunny Tashkent with Rango. In the afternoon, we have fruit salad and ice cream with coffee and just hang out. After baking and enjoying pizza, the first day of the new year comes to an early end.

On Thursday, it finally becomes clear that despite several inquiries, we won't be able to sell Junkie at a reasonable price. The problem is the Kazakh license plate. In Uzbekistan, when importing cars, a customs duty dependent on the engine capacity is due. For models older than 20 years, this duty is about $3/cm³. So the import duty for Junkie is multiple times the value of the vehicle. But since both transit through Turkmenistan and entering Iran by car are too expensive, Junkie has to go. We decide to offer the car in nearby Shymkent as well. Within a very short time, several potential buyers contact us. So we decide to make another detour to Kazakhstan. Marcus takes care of our problem tire and gets a new one installed. Otherwise, we just relax and let the rest of the day pass by.