Is there anything to eat out here?: Cold, wet, and posing for photos

July 28, 2014

There were a few towns along my route where I could resupply with food and water but I didn't know exactly the distance between them, which almost got me in trouble. All I had in the way of a map was a page I'd printed off google and from looking at that I'd estimated the distance to the town of Aygoz to be about 150 kilometres. Towards evening on the 27th of July I'd done most of that distance and was expecting Aygoz to be just around the next corner, when a couple of motorcyclists stopped to talk with me. I asked them if they knew how far it was to Aygoz and one of them checked on his GPS. As it happens I was right, Aygoz was just around the next corner. Only trouble was, the next corner was 136 kilometres away.

I wasn't going to make it to Aygoz with the bottled water that I had, but I managed to get some water from an unknown and dubious source at a rather lonely looking cafe that I hoped might at least prevent me dying from dehydration just long enough to die from cholera. As for food I had my emergency kilogram of noodles that would probably see me through, but it was a hassle so far as having to stop and cook it, and it wasn't terribly appetising.

The numbers were getting bigger as they counted up the kilometres passed since Almaty. On the other side the numbers were counting down, possibly to the next moment that something interesting would appear

The 28th was a cold, wet and windy day but that was rather a good thing because it meant that I didn't need to drink very much water. I was still rather depressed by it all though, particularly as the wind was going the wrong way and the first of the day’s helpings of noodles hadn't done anything to lift the spirits. But then I came to a gas station that, unusually for this road, was actually not derelict. It had cars queuing up to fill their tanks, probably because it was the only functioning gas station in 200 kilometres, but best of all it had a very modern sign above the building that very definitely said 'shop.' I was saved!

No I wasn't. I walked inside and found rows of bare shelves. I scanned them up and down, desperate to find something. And there was something on one shelf, three tins of peas arranged somewhat artistically in a little pyramid and sitting proudly on top a box of teabags. That was all, three tins of peas and a box of teabags. I turned to the fridge. At least that was full. From top to bottom. With Red Bull. Nothing else, just a hundred cans of Red Bull. Hmmm, my options were quite limited. I considered buying what I could. I mean, with the peas there would be my vitamins, and the hundred cans of Red Bull would certainly give me plenty of energy. But it did seem like a diet quite high in caffeine, and the queue for the counter was rather long, so I decided against it, and chanced it with what I had.

The steppe continued, the rain failing to make it seem much more exciting than it had in the sunshine. Then another car stopped and the man got out to ask if he could have his photo taken with me. I shrugged and said why not, I did look particularly good in my poncho this day. Then his whole family got out to have their photo taken with me. I thought they were all going to get back in and drive off having a good laugh at the crazy idiot cyclist, but then the man gave me a half-drunk bottle of ice-tea as a gift, and I was humbled the kindness.

I do look a bit good in it though don't I?

I battled on into the wind until something else appeared on the horizon. It was a little farm and strangely the word 'shop' was written on a rickety wooden building near the road. I must admit I didn't hold out too much hope, but I leaned the bike up outside and walked towards the door anyway, noting as I did that with the remote location, bad weather, and unshop-like appearance of this shop I was almost certainly walking to my death on a cheap horror film.

I went inside anyway and found a small old man crouching over a desk who seemed as delighted as he was surprised that somebody had finally entered his shop. The shelves behind him were predictably bare, but the old man stood up, mumbled something, and then walked over to the fridge. He pulled the door and swung it open. The whole thing was brightly illuminated, an almost blinding light shining out and, was it my imagination, or were there half a dozen angels floating around it saying "Aaaaaaaaaah!" There was food in the fridge! Bread! Biscuits! Some seed-and-nut bar thing that turned out to be delicious! A 5-litre bottle of mineral water! One of the angels burst into an inspiring solo rendition of 'hallelujah!' I was saved!

I grabbed things joyously and put them on the desk. The old man found a piece of cardboard and a pen and with each item I placed down he wrote the price and added it to the total. He wrote slowly, in large letters, reminiscent of a seven-year-old doing their maths homework. He was adorable. Finally I had everything I wanted and closed the fridge, at which point the angels vanished into thin air. The old man came up with a total of 1300 tenge, which isn't as much as it sounds. I looked for the change, couldn't find it, and gave him a 2000 tenge note. He took it from me, turned back to the cardboard and wrote out in his large script the number 2000, and then underneath it the number 1300, and then he underlined it and did the maths, before giving me my change (it was 700.) If there had been a calculator for sale in that shop I swear to God I would have bought it for the dear man.

After that my fortunes changed dramatically. The weather improved, the sun came out, and the headwind turned into a tailwind and started pushing me onwards. Powered on by non-noodle based food it seemed that I was going to make it to Aygoz just before the end of the day after all. And just before I got there I met a friendly motorcyclist coming the other way called [insert name here after looking it up on his blog]. He'd been motorcycling around the world for a good three years and we had a bit of a nice chat until he mentioned that the skies were darkening and it looked like we were in for a thunderstorm, and then it seemed a good idea for us both to press on in our opposite directions and make camp.

I never did find out his name. I meant to look it up on his blog but I can't for the life of me remember the address

I found a shop on my way through Aygoz and resupplied properly with enough food and water for the next 200 empty kilometres. As I came out of the shop the sky was really dark and there was a noticeable drop in pressure, something big was about to hit and I needed to get out of town real quick. I got everything packed up fast and headed on through the town on a road that was frustratingly uphill. I needed to move, I really needed to get out and get my tent up, there was not a second to spare. And then a car pulled over in front of me and a girl got out and asked to have her photo with me.

"NOOOOOOOOOO you bloody well can't!!!" was what I wanted to scream at her, but just before I did a voice inside my head stopped me and said 'Quiet you fool, there could be a place to stay on here!.' The girl was also speaking in English, which was a novelty because she was the first Kazakh person I'd met that could. She was in her teens and fat and she looked, well, I don't want to use the word unattractive, but, you know, ugly. Then her fat sister got out too, then her fat dad. I went through the process of posing for the photos, the black clouds growing ever closer. Then came the questions, which I answered with the warmth and friendliness of a man who really wants a place to sleep for the night.

"Where are you from?"

"Where are you going?"

"Why do you travel alone?"

"Don't you have any friends?"

"Don't you have a wife?"

"Do you want to meet a wife while you're traveling?"

This last question the girl asked with a worrying hint of flirtation and insinuation that had me thinking 'Not tonight tubby' but there was that voice in my head again, 'There's a place to stay on here remember, time to turn on the charm!'

"Oh well, yes. That would be lovely. To meet a wife. Yes."

'Smooth dude, real smooth'

She looked at me strangely and then said "Do you need any help with a place to eat, a place to stay?"

'The old Pountney-magic strikes again! Jackpot!'

"Oh yeah, that would be great! Where do you live?" I asked.

She looked confused. "Over there. Why?"

Now I looked confused. "Erm. Do you have a place for me to stay."

Now she looked confused. Confusion reigned. She said something to her dad. He shook his head. It dawned on me what had just happened.

She turned back to me. "No sorry. I meant do you need help finding a hotel? There is one just down the road."

'Idiot'

And then it started to rain.

Today's ride: 115 km (71 miles)
Total: 23,384 km (14,521 miles)

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