Having made that decision, in the morning, I unloaded everything from the bike that I didn't want to leave here, much of which I should have never brought. Once I got it unloaded, I rode off to MuzToo, a tour operator and moto rental/repair/storage shop. As an example of how bad my mental acuity has degraded, as I was turning off the main road to the road on which MuzToo is located, the front end washed out and I went down. I wasn't looking where I wanted to go, but rather I was looking right in front of the bike. I twitched the handlebars and lost the contact patch. Boom.
But then it got worse. I got the bike up and tried to ride it. No matter how I feathered the clutch, the rear wheel just kept digging into the gravel, the bike would lurch, and then it would die. I could not figure out what was wrong with the bike or with me. I fiddled with it for five minutes and could not get it to run properly. Since I could see the MuzToo sign about 100 meters up the alley, I went and got Patrik, the owner.
Patrik got on the bike, started it, looked at the front brake lever, and saw it was jammed in the hand guard. The bike didn't want to move because the front brake was locked. Two mental mistakes that caused a lot of frustration, with which I'm not dealing very well right now.
Patrik and I went over the list of things to do on the bike, and he started on the paperwork. As I was standing around talking with Ben, one of his mechanics, about the moto, Malcom and Sara rode up. They had ridden about 20k out of town, and Malcom's engine started suffering fuel problems, so they came back to MuzToo to repair it. It was a nice treat to see them again.
Then two more bikes rode in bearing signs: Puck on his bike, Pixie on hers. They are Chris and Lara, perpetually riding around the world. At least Chris is. He mentioned that this is his third time round. Chris had some tire work to do on his bike, and I sat and listened. Then another British guy showed up, and he had been literally all over Russia, Central Asia, and Asia in general.
We were served coffee and cookies by Patrik's lovely wife and daughter. That's my paperwork on the table.
Chris on the left is working while Malcom on the right is taking a coffee break. This was real coffee, mind you, a pot of French press and a Bialleta pot of espresso. It was fantastic.
Lara on the right and the Fascinating Brit on the left.
Malcom and Sara, two of the many wonderful bikers I have met.
I still had one more task to accomplish on Ftiday, so I took a taxi back to the hotel.
Actually, I was sharing a taxi, but it only cost 100 com ($2.00). The driver dropped me off across the river from the Osh-Nuru, and I walked across this bridge, through a scruffy park, and up some steps to the hotel.
I got my papers together, and after getting the young woman at reception to write down the address of the immigration/passport office, I hired a taxi to take me there. Getting the address was difficult because an older Russian speaking guy kept interrupting and telling her what to do. He was also flirting with her, which she didn't like. But the taxi took me right to the office, about four blocks from the hotel.
When I arrived, it was 1300, and the office was closed for lunch from 1230-1330. I took a seat in the shade with about 30-40 people. I was concerned, based on other interactions with Central Asian bureaucracies, that I was going to be in lines forever.
As it turned out, I was in several lines, but not forever. I paid 125 com, $2.50, and had to walk back to the hotel to have them stamp a paper I couldn't read, and at 3:30, I had the stamp in my passport I needed. Good deal!
From there I went to the market and bought a cheap duffel to bring the stuff home in. I returned to the hotel, and started looking into airline tickets. Meredith indicated she might come and meet me in Germany for a week, so that is where I wanted to go. It took me three hours, but I booked a ticket leaving Osh on Sunday, the 3rd, for Istanbul and then on to Frankfurt. Only $375. That was a good deal.
At 7:00, I went to the lobby, and Malcom, Sara, and the Fantastic British Guy were there, as well as the two guys from the Netherlands! So it was a good group of bikers who went back to the Aztec for dinner. Really great conversations and stories, and I learned a lot. Just listening can be very instructive. I must do it more.
After dinner I went back to the hotel, where my room, which still had not been cleaned, was waiting. Meredith and I discussed Germany some more, and decided she would defer meeting me there this week. I made a hotel reservation in Frankfurt for two nights, and will work out the remainder of my return when I get to Frankfurt.
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