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The Bicycle box

UZBEKISTAN

Mar
2004-09-14 15:10:54

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bicycles of 13 kg each, not mentioning where we are supposed to sit and how the two drivers fit in as well. Don’t know who came up with the final solution to the puzzle but it fits if half of the bikes are in the open air and we are squeezed from four people into two.

At the first traffic light a police car stops to find out where we are heading to. Have to say, even in The Netherlands this doesn’t really looks solid. Maybe the wheels are bending already and will we hit the ground in three minutes. “What an absolute nonsense” Raymond says, “here we go”. We keep silent in the back of the car when the police pulls us over. There’s so many stories about the police in Tashkent, they are known for asking $15 for getting your passports back or because there is something wrong with the visa. And indeed, we have to get out and hand over the passports. The two policemen look somehow bored and skip through the pages. They talk with our two drivers and we only pick up the word “tourist?”. The next moment they return our passports, shake hands with us and they disappear into the dark of the night.

It is already 4:00 in the morning when we arrive at guesthouse Ali-Tur. “The owner is still sleeping away his Vodka-day” explains the guard. “Every day at noon he starts drinking with his friends”. That’s all okay with me except for the little fact that he has forgotten to tell the guard we are staying at the guesthouse tonight and that we might be in need for a sleep by now. Because the guard doesn’t want to wake the owner, we decide to use our own airbeds and choose the living room.

Tashkent is Tashkent, nothing more than the reputation of an industrial city and Aeroflot uses its airport. According our initial plans we are about to leave the city as soon as possible. 30% of the population here is employed by the police and I think I’ve found the place where they all come together. When we use the subway we test ...