7th June 

Left hotel, cycled to Anzob. Dirt track. Imposing red rock, but somehow desolate, barren but with an industrial atmosphere as they are tipper trucks moving concrete and possible coal around the place.

The scenery changed as soon as we approached the village though. The red rock disappears, and the scenery is lush, green farmland. 

As we approached Anzob village, middle aged man flags us down and insists we come to his house for tea. We were planning on camping further ahead, but we said we’d go in for tea only. 

As we sit down, his wife brings out a huge serving of plov for us, also chocolate sweets and chai. By this point we knew we were not going to cycle any more that day. 

After chai and food, they took us to their cow — one mother and two babies, where they got milk from. Omar’s wife (I wrote down her name but accidentally deleted it), fed the cows and we went back to the house, this time for dinner with them — out come another serving of plov, as well as, homemade yoghurt, bread and more chai. We tried to communicate as best as we could using translation apps and gesturing.

In the morning, my tummy had reacted badly to the yoghurt and I had diahhrea — I’m almost certain it’s the yoghurt as I had the same thing in shepte after drinking a litre of fermented milk.