Four great days in Bishkek – seemingly a town populated entirely by Russian supermodels.
During this time we
- Stared at supermodels
- Narrowly avoided being arrested after Frosty was noticed taking photos of said supermodels
- Found an authentic Indian restaurant
- Found an English restaurant (Fatboy’s Cafe), which served full English breakfasts and pots of PG Tips tea (which was much appreciated after being limited to green tea for two months).
- Went to the pharmacy and all walked along the street unwittingly holding a big box of diarrhoea tablets with the label pointing outwards (Hello lovely ladies, we’ve all got the squits)
- Met the Indian Mens Chess Championship team. Conversation was limited.
- Met the Russian Ladies Gymnastic team. Conversation was more enthusiastic.
- Crashed 3 weddings. Made very welcome to the first two, chased out of the last.
- Made the day of one of the truck drivers as he collects hats, so bought him a supposedly original Russian space helmet from a market.
- One traveller left and eight new people joined the group. All seem fine, but it’s a bit more cramped on the truck and we’re having to teach them to do everything again. They’re all only doing a single leg of the trip to Ashgabat and it almost feels like they’re intruding on our longer voyage.
- Visited the Uzbekistani embassy to get visas for the next leg of our trip. They seemed very adamant that journalists aren’t allowed in. Or people married to a journalist, related to a journalist, or who had ever met a journalist. I think preferably we wouldn’t be able to read and write either.
- Stared at supermodels
