Warning: this post is not for the eyes of parents, grandparents or teetotalers.
The ferry from Kazakhstan to Azerbaijan has no schedule. It shows up and leaves when it feels like it. Romantic, huh? Not if our visas are about to run out.
Uzbekistan reminded me in many ways of my home country Zimbabwe, a land of incomprehensible procedures, corrupt police and worthless money.
Frequent fuel shortages make filling the tank a real challenge in Uzbekistan. Black market petrol traders almost destroyed our beloved car.
Kyrgyzstan is a country of hospitable people and stunning landscapes. Our favourite place would have to be Song Kol, a lake lost in the Kyrgyz mountains.
We had a few more encounters with the Kazakh police. Each time, we were amazed at how imaginative they can be when it comes to charging you with something.
We had far too many encounters with the Kazakh police. Sometimes friendly, sometimes harrassing, often corrupt, they were everywhere.
With its ice cream stands and pristine beaches, Kazakhstan’s Lake Burabay definitely had a well-deserved holiday feel.
Almost sinking into a well led us to our best adventure yet- our saviours invited us to their Yurt for a truly Kazakh experience.
How Betty almost sunk into a well in the middle of the Kazakh steppe, and how we were rescued by laughing farmers.