I got to my room with the idea that a good shower would raise my spirits as well as clean me up. Let me start with the beds (not the bedding, that would be another blog entry). They were mattresses with coil springs, springs which were felt through the padding, and long past their "throw me in the canal and let fish live within me" date.
There was no sink in the bathroom, but a long swivel spout in the tub. The tub had a hand shower (which separated from the hose if you turned the water on) but no shower curtain. Hot water was merely a dream, a wish, a memory from days gone by. What is the issue? It's 110 degrees on the roof, put a tank up there and fill it with water. . .
And the toilet. It was artfully made with bits of color cast in the porcelain so only a close inspection could discern what was not part of the toilet itself. I declined to attempt yo discern, but there were LOTS of colored spots on it. But one hinge kept the seat from sliding off, so I had that going for me. The tank top was leaning against the wall in a corner, probably because someone had tried to stop the toilet from running all the time, and gave up. The toilet ran the whole time I was there, except when all the water to the bathroom stopped. Want to guess when that happened to me? Yes! Right after I soaped up! This is seriously not funny. I had to get out of the tub, go get my 1 1/2 liter of drinking water, and pour that over me to rinse off. As soon as I was through rinsing, the water came back on.
And the toilet also seeped from its base. There was a drain in the floor into which it flowed, so I had that going for me, too. As long as I was careful where I stepped, it was okay.
After awhile the two young men and I set off to see if we could exchange some dollars for local money, find some SIM cards, and find food. We found several banks that were closing, but could not find an ATM machine. Likewise, we could not find a SIM card. The lady at reception told us we couldn't buy them because we weren't locals. I think she was a government agent.
We also tried to find food. This was getting ridiculous. We had walked all over looking for cash, SIM cards, and all the restaurants were closed, or having a private party, or only served ice cream and beer. In my misspent youth, that would have been the perfect food grouping. Finally we found a place where a guy was cooking kebabs outside on a grill
After a little negotiation, they agreed to accept dollars. We had kebabs, salad, and bread. They each had a beer, and I had 1.5 liters of Lipton's Finest Kind Ice Tea. The total for all three of us was $10 US.
The next day after breakfast, I loaded the bike to leave. However, the tires were missing. This was fine with me because the weight and bulk penalty I was paying for them was greater than their value. So I told the lady at reception they were gone, told her it was okay, and left. Today I received an email from Ramon, one of the guys. He said the security guard had put them inside do they wouldn't get stolen. Anyway, they belong to the hotel now.
I rode to the bazaar to try to find a money changer, but couldn't find a place to park. I decided to find a bank and make an exchange, as I was desperate for water. At the second bank they agreed to exchange my dollars. I gave the lady two twenties. She didn't like one of them, so I swapped it for another.
As you might imagine, there was a miscommunication about the nature of the transaction I had proposed. They came back with a certificate of deposit for thirty days! We got that straightened out, and I got a stack of 1000 CYM bills about an inch high.
Now with money, I went to see if I could find a scooter store I had seen earlier. I found it with ease, and pulled in. They had some chrome mirrors from a Chinese scooter that worked, and I bought them for $10 US installed. I can now see traffic coming up behind me, which is of grave importance here (pun intended).
Mr. Garmin and I rolled out of town late. I stopped to get more water at a little stall at the edge of Nukus. The young woman wanted pictures taken, so we did pictures while I drank a liter of water.
Having finished both, and it now being 11:30, I got back on the road.
The road was straight, and through scrub brush on sand and gravel. Every now and then a dune would rise up out of the sand and gravel, but they weren't very big. Off to the south, my right, I could see greenery and tree tops along the Amudarya River. Later, I crossed that River on a pontoon bridge guarded by a police post at each end.
About 7 kilometers west of Beshtam, there is a conical hill just south of the highway (A380) with what looks like a fort coveting the entire top. If it is not man made, then that hill had very uniform erosion patterns.
After I crossed the river, the road was pretty much lined with fields and trees all the way to Khiva. Mr. Garmin took me the back way, and the roads were bad (destroyed) in sections. But without the tires, and with the mirrors, I was not going to complain. People continue to like the moto, like this guy, who insisted I take his picture when I stopped for water.
I was stopped at one check point and asked for my papers. The guy was nice, and wrote all the info by hand into his ledger book. I think he may have been stopping just non-locals because I was very close to the border.
I made it to Khiva safely, and then was almost killed at the first intersection with a traffic light by a guy intent on running his red light and not looking both ways. Regardless, I stopped in time, and then people started beeping at me because the light changed and I wasn't getting out of the intersection fast enough.
I couldn't find my hotel because streets were closed by construction, or weren't even streets, or were one way the wrong way. I finally wound up in a street going the direction I was pretty sure would get me there.
(Dust covered lens! I took this today. The truck was parked just beyond the large pothole)
But. There was a truck parked in the street blocking pretty much all of it. Beyond, I could see a pile of rubble blocking even more of it, leaving a small path littered with brick and rubble. A kid on a bike kept yammering he could take me to a hotel.
I couldn't make out which hotel he meant, but we negotiated a price of 1000 CYM to take me there. I was preparing to turn around, but he took off on his bike around the truck, waving for me yo follow! I couldn't be out done by a 12 year old boy on a bike, so I followed him. Gulp! I made it through between the truck and the wall, then through the rubble, and then the road was a series of potholes connected by broken brick and asphalt paving. Whee! I'm off-roading again!
About two hundred meters later, around a corner, was the hotel. The youngster rode up and demanded 5000 CYM! Negotiations were reopened, and he settled for 2500 CYM. Roughly a dollar.
I showered, arranged for dinner, took a nap, read my emails, and resolved to explore Khiva in the morning.
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