Mongol Rally: From Upset Stomach to Watermelon Delights.
Our adventure in Kyrgyzstan kicked off with a dinner recommendation from the manager of our (somewhat) fancy hotel.
In true rally style, we asked for a local spot, but what we got was a tourist trap of a restaurant, where no one spoke English, and the menu was a mystery.
I took a gamble on some unknown dishes (like I always did), and oh boy, this time it did not pay off!
I spent the night performing acrobatics in the bathroom – vigorously alternating between vomiting and diarrhea.
By noon, I managed to drag myself out of bed, feeling like a deflated balloon.
We had a 6-hour drive ahead of us, but with my stomach staging a coup, the journey turned into an epic saga that took much longer.
I felt miserable, cursed my dining choices, but got my lesson learned: when my body’s in revolt, my mind can’t keep its equanimity.
As night fell, we finally reached our destination, a sleepy little town that apparently had a no-vacancy sign plastered everywhere.
We drove for 2 hours, desperately searching for a place to rest our weary heads until a kind hostel owner took pity on us.
She ventured into her neighbors’ house, emerging with an invitation to sleep on their living room floor!
They threw down rugs and makeshift mattresses, and we crashed with gratitude for the kindness of strangers.
Morning came with the usual dose of chaos.
Just minutes into our drive, the police pulled us over for not having our lights on – apparently a big no-no.
They were ready to hit us with a $45 fine, but Alex, playing the part of the stupid, blond tourist, fumbled through the car documents.
When the officers realized they couldn’t even read our licenses, they waved us off like we were an annoying mosquito. Crisis averted!
Later, as it took forever to cross the Kyrgyzstan-Kazakhstan border, it felt like déjà vu from our Georgia-Azerbaijan adventure.
And then, Kazakhstan – well, there’s not much to say.
We spent a couple of nights there, and it was so forgettable that I can’t really remember it.
But a special gift came at the Kazakhstan-Russia border.
As we stood in the customary two-hour queue, we struck up a conversation with some truck drivers delivering watermelons to Russia.
Just when we thought the wait couldn’t get more boring, one driver climbed up his truck, plucked a perfectly ripe watermelon, and tossed it to us without a word, waving us goodbye like we were long-lost friends.
Talk about a sweet send-off!
The adventures continued, but this chapter reminded us that even in the wildest of places, generosity can pop up when you least expect it!
More from the Mongol Rally here: