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Day 20 - The geiger counter would be going crazy

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Following on from yesterday's blog…

We awoke in luxurious surroundings - our presidential suite and it's associated grandeur definitely making up for the shortcomings in comfort the past few weeks (especially waking up in the swamp). The boys were in the passionate bedroom, the reds and pinks of the walls highlighted nicely against the dark wood floors. Apparently Will was the big spoon that night, Mackey said in the morning.

The boys headed down to breakfast, no doubt an equally impressive spread of morning food. I, however, traded mine for an extra hour in bed - I knew that we'd soon be leaving civilisation, even more so than the transition we'd seen as we'd crossed from Europe to Asia. Hotels, motels, even Holiday Inn's would cease to exist, along with roads. Therefore, my reasoning, was to make the very most of the king sized bed I contently dozed in. I can eat breakfast in the desert!

We all showered (the boys using the suite's bathroom like commoners, myself using my ensuite) and checked out before 11am. Pete the Saxo was in the private car park behind the hotel, protected through the night by the high walls, wrought iron gate and a very bored security guard. 

Our plan for today was the Mongol Mongrels - our good friends Ed & Emma, driving their 206 and not seen since the marvellous Czech Out party (they were our adjacent camping buddies). We'd all been dying to meet up, a combination of car troubles and lost rally phones meaning our paths had not  again crossed, much to the dismay of all five of us.

Ed & Emma were en route from Karkaraly to join us, and sent a text to the recently acquired rally phone number two. Just 250km away - we could be seeing them in a couple hours, else it might take a day, our lives once again completely dependent on the road conditions. We made the unanimous decision to wait, as long as it took, to reform the most excellent convoy we tasted so briefly in the Czech Republic.

We had the day ahead of us, in the radioactive city of Semey. So far, we'd made quite an effort to avoid all locally grown food, although Mackey swears that the radioactive tomatoes he ate were the tastiest he'd ever sampled. Even order beers, we endeavoured to buy from as far away as possible. I went for Miller, despite the Americans really not knowing much about good beer.

In the privacy of the private car park, we made the most of our time and decided to give Pete the Saxo some extra special attention. Everything was removed from the car, and the most efficient repacking Kazakhstan had ever seen began. We even tidied; those little bits of rubbish everyone accumulates on a road trip filling an entire black bag. You know the things - Fox's Glacier Mints wrappers, petrol receipts etc..

Once Pete the Saxo was looking the tidiest since Goodwood, we thought we'd do some touristy things. Semey's entry in the Lonely Planet only spread over a couple of pages, the attractions section merely a long paragraph. One thing they did list however, was the nuclear monument, a 50 meter tower representing the Soviet nuclear tests so close to the city. This huge black monument had a mushroom cloud gap in the middle, with a poignant statue of a mother shielding her baby from the blast. 

Walking to the statue, about a kilometre away from the hotel, we crossed over a crazy crazy bridge - of typical Soviet build, that stretched about 100 meters, yet swayed horribly when a large truck passed over. Gaps a foot wide providing ridiculous obstacles to jump over as we walked. The country is basically a health and safety lawsuit just waiting to happen! The rivers underneath were very pleasant though, although we played a game of "spot some life" in the radiation polluted water, and failed to spot anything bigger than a minnow.

We eventually found the open park area outside the city, but not before coming across wild cannabis growing alongside the road. You could smell it as we sauntered along the hot road - we took a few photos, as it amused us. The passing motorists must have thought we were strange, very strange. The monument towered over the abandoned park area, as we were seemingly the only tourists that day. Although it did have a lone security guard patrolling the empty area. We surmised he had the worst job ever, looking so bored as he dawdled around and around the stone memorial.

With that done, our tourist needs satisfied by a very unsatisfying testament, we wandered back into town. This time however, the river was home to some naked Kazakh men washing in the fast flowing waters. It looked quite out of place for us, although perhaps that was the norm? The radiation didn't seem to affect them though, as they splashed happily with their three hands.

Will took the lead as we entered the city once more, his stomach guiding the three of us in the aim of finding the nearest restaurant for a spot of lunch. As it turns out, his stomach isn't too good at navigation. We explored the ghettos and slums of Semey, away from the main roads but assured by Will that this was the "quick way".

An hour later, we re-emerged at the hotel, having bypassed the 20 minute road in our inner city cultural tour. Another 10 minutes, this time sticking to the proven main roads, and we found a small restaurant nestled between two buildings, the roof looking more suitable for a garage than a dining establishment. It was a nice place though, the waiter taking special care of us as we were his exclusive guests.

We had regular text updates from Ed & Emma - their going was slow. They had chanced upon some of the worse roads in the country, and as a result the thought of a 60 mph run was nothing more than a fantasy. We waited around in the bar for about 3 hours, watching women's wrestling on the wall mounted TV whilst eating pizza. 

Pizza really is an international food, probably more so that anything else we can think of. We've stumbled across Pizzerias in every single country we've visited. Most pizza menus come with pictures though - with pictures and Cyrillic, we don't have to play the crazy game of menu roulette.

Back to the hotel we went, after spending the majority of the afternoon at the bar - once again retiring to our hotel car park. I must add though, that we'd checked out of the hotel early in the morning, yet our car still remained in the car park. They must have thought we were taking advantage of their facilities - after all, we had used it as a workshop/car wash/valet and now we all sat about in Pete the Saxo watching a movie on the 4 inch screen of the iPod.

Another text came through - Ed & Emma, along with Paul & Laura from the Two Mongoleers, were only 25km away. Even with the shocking roads, our friends were due to be here soon - that is, as long as they had a better ability of inner city navigation and could find the hotel with ease. Unlike us. In every major city we've been through.

Whilst waiting in the car park, sectioned off from the rest of Kazakhstan and providing some relaxing time in Pete the Saxo, I caught up with some blogs and Will decided to go on a mission to the nearby shop to get some drinks for us, to sustain us whilst waiting. Off he set, Tenge in hand and a round trip that should have taken no more than 15 minutes.

2 hours later, myself and Mackey began to actually worry about our third team member. Where on earth had he gone to? Did he go to find some fresh water spring to bottle the drinks himself? Did he decide the radioactivity of Semey shouldn't be ingested, and therefore would walk to Astana and get some cold Sprite's there? He had a fairly good sense of direction, managing to re-find the hotel after our nuclear monument visit (albeit the long way round), so not much we could do.. other than wait. Eventually though, he popped his little head around the back door of the hotel, and into the car park we were waiting in.

Will had gone for a little stroll and found an internet cafe. A nice use of a couple of hours, but came back completely drinkless for his very thirsty friends. His nickname has now been changed from Willy-One-Bottle (from that time he went to get us drinks, and came back with just his bottle) to Willy-No-Bottles. Apparently he'd found an internet cafe, and spent a nice few hours in the air conditioned room. Even had a few drinks himself!

The hotel receptionist and manager, along with the security guard and gardener, did seem quite perplexed at why we were treating their hotel like.. well, a hotel, albeit one we'd checked out of 6 hours ago. But, their frustration would soon be set right; Emma & Laura (Two Mongoleers) arrived at the hotel, and were SO happy to see us. Not only that, as we caught up in reception, the Terios boys from Team This Is Our Everest turned up, as well Team Desert Beagles. Such a coincidence! But an awesome group now formed. Emma was without Ed though; the Peugeot 206 sat 2 blocks away from the hotel, the exhaust hanging off. Who you gonna call? Why, Nick Mackey of course! Mackey went to investigate the problem, and indeed noticed that the exhaust had fallen off. A very loud drive back to our hotel, and he straight away got to work. The bodge job (the first of several) involved butted the two sheered off ends together with jubilee clips, and lagged them to death with exhaust putty.

We all retired to our rooms, showers most definitely needed once more. The plan was to meet at reception, and head out to the still radioactive land that was Semey in search of sustenance. About 9pm, we wandered from our suite and met up with everyone; Ed, Emma, Tom, Rich, Ian, Jason, Simon, Laura & Paul, and off we went. Despite being in Semey for a few days, our knowledge of fine culinary establishments was limited, and instead decided to head down the main street en masse.

A short 5 minutes later, and we found a small bar set underground, that also did food. Perfect we though, and we tripled their business just by walking through the door. We sat down on 2 large, back to back tables, the only other customers being a Kazakh family enjoying the local beer. The menu was in Cyrillic, and it came down to Ed to translate using his limited (but incredibly impressive) knowledge. We all picked, but the waitress then pointed out that they only stocked two things on the entire menu; "cheesy cow meat" and "soy sauce beef". 6 of each, and we'd share the fruits of our ordering. 'Sharing is caring' is certainly a motto on this trip.

The language is a constant barrier, but we are doing our best to learn all we can. So far though, all we've managed is "yes", "no", "thank you" and "beer". Although the last one, beer - the word is extremely close to "dried fish". Mackey had to walk to the bar and very clearly point at beer, when he was brought some dried fish.

The locals spiced things up in the little underground restaurant though, by getting up and dancing to some traditional Kazakh music. Of course, we were British and rebuffed their invitations to dance, although the mood was a jovial one. Before we knew it though, it was relatively late and we were all tired - those who had been driving of course, much more than us lay abouts.
We all sauntered back to the hotel, bid bon nuit to each other, and all retired to our rooms (or suites) for some sleep before the border crossing back into Russia the next day.