Sherry, Chips and a monobrow Bride
The morning after the incident with the Canadians, we got up early to go to the Market and pick up some public transport to Khorog.
In the market was a lonely jeep with a piece of paper on the windscreen saying "Khorog". We settle down to wait for the driver, a bus or a truck. Mike disappeared with some men offering a lift and Pete and I waited in the market. A group of very well dressed, James Dean look-a-like men asked us if we wanted to go to Khorog. Murghab is a poor town on a drug route, so Pete and I decided that it would be a good idea to politely ignore these men. We asked how much and didn't understand the answer then said no thank you and stopped talking to them. They sat down next to us and kept asking.
Mike came back, after being unsuccessful in finding a lift, but he had found out that the minimum price a private car would give was $120 for the three of us. The well dressed men started haggling with Mike. We pointed out that they where slightly dodgy because they had tight belts and shiny shoes. Mike agreed so offered them $60 for the three of us to send them away, they said OK. We weren't sure why they gave in to this, but decided that if they where on a drug run that three little tourists would be a nice little alibi. Mike was getting into the bartering so I wondered off to the old reliable ACTED office and its little wrinkly man. He agreed that it was a good deal, but sounded slightly dodgy. He told us to accept but to bring the drivers to the office, where he would take down their details. "This way they'll know that you know people and there will be a record of the fact that you have nothing to do with them", He explained.
We did as ACTED suggested and started the drive. We found out each other's names and ages, they put on some relaxing music and things settled down nicely.
After a while they stopped the car. The engine had warmed up and they needed to put more water in the radiator, or something else technical to do with cars... We had a little walk about and took some pictures then got back into the car. Mike had been talking to the driver, and it seemed that he had given us permission to each drive the jeep for a kilometre! Pete went first. He had to do a hill start in a backward car with a massive gear stick and a stiff clutch. The driver gave him 3/5. I went second. Anybody who knows me well enough to know about my driving may be slightly worried by the prospect of letting me loose in a run down jeep in the middle of nowhere, but there's no need, I got a nice 5/5! I think this was a joint effort of having a nice road, getting an extra point for needing to stand up to reach the clutch and being born a female. After initial problems with the gears, Mike got to drive for the longest and became best at avoiding the pot-holes. Unfortunately, pot-hole avoiding ability was not rated too highly and he had a 2/5, unfortunate.
The drive from Murghab to Khorog was interesting. From what we had been told by Yoggi and Megan in Osh, we'd expected the same kind of scenery all the way. This scenery had grown on me by now, so I was quite looking forward to the drive. We passed a sky blue, salt shored lake at one point, which we thought would be the best view all day. We couldn't have been more wrong. Within a few hours we started descending into a valley that had a fast turquoise river running along the bottom. The valley floor became greener and greener and soon Mike and Pete where comparing it to the Hunza valley. We asked to stop at a point after the great rapids where the river had become quite wide. We wondered down to the river to get a better picture only to find a rickety bridge!!! We had a field day and spent a good 20 minutes taking pictures from the bridge, of the bridge, of us on the bridge and of us in front of the bridge. This created a small crowd of confused locals so we decided to leave and let them discover the joys of the rickety bridge themselves.
The lower down in the valley we went, the prettier and greener the view became. Grass and the odd tree developed into fields of different types of fruit trees lined with tall Cyprus trees decorating the skyline. We still followed the stunning river that was being joined by smaller, whiter rivers from other vales. Surrounding us where still the red crumbly mountains of the Pamirs and the odd snow-capped peak.
This perfect journey did not end in Khorog. It ended with the explanation of the well dressed men offering a ridiculously cheap ride - a wedding. The two men where headed to their sisters wedding in a village on the way, but not far from, Khorog.
We were warmly welcomed and invited to sit inside the Pamiri house to "drink tea". In front of us they set out plates of sweets, apricots, plums and cherries. A few women then came in with massive bowls of Plov (a traditional meal of rice cooked with meat and vegetables, a little like special fried rice), only to be followed by 3 plates of chips!!
A crazy drunk uncle came to greet us. He didn't speak a word of English, but this was no dampener on the conversation. He asked us if we wanted vodka, beer or wine. We refused vodka, so disappeared and came back with a bottle of beer and a bottle of what looked like home-made wine. He shared the beer between three glasses and gave us each a small bowl of the wine. The beer was good Russian beer, the wine was definitely fortified. After some debate, we decided that the wine was actually more similar to sherry.
The evening wandered into the night in the same fashion. People came in and out to talk to the foreign people. Young girls came to practice their English, older women came to give us more and more food and the drunken uncle came back again and again to give us more drink.
The after-party came to an end and we all had a night's sleep in the strange house, wondering how we got ourselves into such a surreal situation. What we didn't know then was that this was just the beginning of the strange and wonderful happenings in/near Khorog...
In the market was a lonely jeep with a piece of paper on the windscreen saying "Khorog". We settle down to wait for the driver, a bus or a truck. Mike disappeared with some men offering a lift and Pete and I waited in the market. A group of very well dressed, James Dean look-a-like men asked us if we wanted to go to Khorog. Murghab is a poor town on a drug route, so Pete and I decided that it would be a good idea to politely ignore these men. We asked how much and didn't understand the answer then said no thank you and stopped talking to them. They sat down next to us and kept asking.
Mike came back, after being unsuccessful in finding a lift, but he had found out that the minimum price a private car would give was $120 for the three of us. The well dressed men started haggling with Mike. We pointed out that they where slightly dodgy because they had tight belts and shiny shoes. Mike agreed so offered them $60 for the three of us to send them away, they said OK. We weren't sure why they gave in to this, but decided that if they where on a drug run that three little tourists would be a nice little alibi. Mike was getting into the bartering so I wondered off to the old reliable ACTED office and its little wrinkly man. He agreed that it was a good deal, but sounded slightly dodgy. He told us to accept but to bring the drivers to the office, where he would take down their details. "This way they'll know that you know people and there will be a record of the fact that you have nothing to do with them", He explained.
We did as ACTED suggested and started the drive. We found out each other's names and ages, they put on some relaxing music and things settled down nicely.
After a while they stopped the car. The engine had warmed up and they needed to put more water in the radiator, or something else technical to do with cars... We had a little walk about and took some pictures then got back into the car. Mike had been talking to the driver, and it seemed that he had given us permission to each drive the jeep for a kilometre! Pete went first. He had to do a hill start in a backward car with a massive gear stick and a stiff clutch. The driver gave him 3/5. I went second. Anybody who knows me well enough to know about my driving may be slightly worried by the prospect of letting me loose in a run down jeep in the middle of nowhere, but there's no need, I got a nice 5/5! I think this was a joint effort of having a nice road, getting an extra point for needing to stand up to reach the clutch and being born a female. After initial problems with the gears, Mike got to drive for the longest and became best at avoiding the pot-holes. Unfortunately, pot-hole avoiding ability was not rated too highly and he had a 2/5, unfortunate.
The drive from Murghab to Khorog was interesting. From what we had been told by Yoggi and Megan in Osh, we'd expected the same kind of scenery all the way. This scenery had grown on me by now, so I was quite looking forward to the drive. We passed a sky blue, salt shored lake at one point, which we thought would be the best view all day. We couldn't have been more wrong. Within a few hours we started descending into a valley that had a fast turquoise river running along the bottom. The valley floor became greener and greener and soon Mike and Pete where comparing it to the Hunza valley. We asked to stop at a point after the great rapids where the river had become quite wide. We wondered down to the river to get a better picture only to find a rickety bridge!!! We had a field day and spent a good 20 minutes taking pictures from the bridge, of the bridge, of us on the bridge and of us in front of the bridge. This created a small crowd of confused locals so we decided to leave and let them discover the joys of the rickety bridge themselves.
The lower down in the valley we went, the prettier and greener the view became. Grass and the odd tree developed into fields of different types of fruit trees lined with tall Cyprus trees decorating the skyline. We still followed the stunning river that was being joined by smaller, whiter rivers from other vales. Surrounding us where still the red crumbly mountains of the Pamirs and the odd snow-capped peak.
This perfect journey did not end in Khorog. It ended with the explanation of the well dressed men offering a ridiculously cheap ride - a wedding. The two men where headed to their sisters wedding in a village on the way, but not far from, Khorog.
We were warmly welcomed and invited to sit inside the Pamiri house to "drink tea". In front of us they set out plates of sweets, apricots, plums and cherries. A few women then came in with massive bowls of Plov (a traditional meal of rice cooked with meat and vegetables, a little like special fried rice), only to be followed by 3 plates of chips!!
A crazy drunk uncle came to greet us. He didn't speak a word of English, but this was no dampener on the conversation. He asked us if we wanted vodka, beer or wine. We refused vodka, so disappeared and came back with a bottle of beer and a bottle of what looked like home-made wine. He shared the beer between three glasses and gave us each a small bowl of the wine. The beer was good Russian beer, the wine was definitely fortified. After some debate, we decided that the wine was actually more similar to sherry.
The evening wandered into the night in the same fashion. People came in and out to talk to the foreign people. Young girls came to practice their English, older women came to give us more and more food and the drunken uncle came back again and again to give us more drink.
The after-party came to an end and we all had a night's sleep in the strange house, wondering how we got ourselves into such a surreal situation. What we didn't know then was that this was just the beginning of the strange and wonderful happenings in/near Khorog...
posted by Lowri @ 3:39 pm
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