Jesus what a day! That is the opening line on my diary entry for today. And it most definitely was. I have never experienced a head wind like it. Constant, very strong and very hot. A grand total of 44kms of hell. With a mouthful of dust and no energy left I made it to Dergachi. Sitting outside a shop drinking water and sugary drinks in an effort regain some energy I chat in my very limited broken Russian in an effort to find somewhere to sleep. Fortunately someone knows and asks me to follow him in his car.
The hotel is on the edge of town, for a little while I was not so sure where my guide was leading me. Tired paranoid voices had images in my mind of fellows with baseball bats taking everything I owned. Instead I had an angel that led me straight to the hotel a paid for me to stay! Russian hospitality is second to none.
The hotel is a little basic run by a plump babushka with Russian workers staying and a little shop at the front. Exhausted I flop down on the edge of a bed, only for sweat to pour into my eyes and cause me to look as if I am weeping as the babushka walks in! I feel a little silly but convey that I am tired and sleep for the afternoon.
In the evening I wake and walk out to the porch and meet the other guests. Through the use of Google translate we strike up a fractured conversation and get to know each other. I am invited to dinner with them, and drinks are passed around. The drink of choice is a Kazakhstany Brandy, somewhat strong but it goes down anyway!
The hotel is on the edge of town, for a little while I was not so sure where my guide was leading me. Tired paranoid voices had images in my mind of fellows with baseball bats taking everything I owned. Instead I had an angel that led me straight to the hotel a paid for me to stay! Russian hospitality is second to none.
The hotel is a little basic run by a plump babushka with Russian workers staying and a little shop at the front. Exhausted I flop down on the edge of a bed, only for sweat to pour into my eyes and cause me to look as if I am weeping as the babushka walks in! I feel a little silly but convey that I am tired and sleep for the afternoon.
In the evening I wake and walk out to the porch and meet the other guests. Through the use of Google translate we strike up a fractured conversation and get to know each other. I am invited to dinner with them, and drinks are passed around. The drink of choice is a Kazakhstany Brandy, somewhat strong but it goes down anyway!
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