Kazakstan
We cross the border into Kazakstan, we did not know we had to do this but the road was here before the borders were drawn. Petrol must be cheap in Kazakstan because the road side is strewn with tankers that are dispensing all forms of benzene without the intermediary of a filling station. Fifteen minutes later we swerve round a chicane which marks the border back into Uzbekistan. Russlyn clearly distrusts the Kazak petrol because we now take a fuel stop. The smokers gather in a small sociable huddle, I suppose they spend most of their lives as social outcasts. I watch a new bird that is perched on the roof. It resembles a wagtail but is twice the normal size. Some people want a toilet. There are no toilets. As far as we can make out there are NO toilets.