Over the next roughly one-and-a-half weeks, we cover many kilometres. Compared to our relatively slow pace so far, this change in speed is quite significant. We drive from Atyrau via Aktöbe to Aral, then past Baikonur — unfortunately, we don’t see a space rocket launch there — and on to Turkistan, our first stop along the ancient Silk Road.
Unfortunately, the long hours of driving and lower hygiene standards in Kazakhstan take their toll on us, and for the first time in seven months of travelling, we both fall seriously ill. Our trip through Kazakhstan was therefore overshadowed first by Svenja’s illness and then by mine, which was probably some kind of gastrointestinal infection. To make matters worse, Svenja’s injured toe, which she hurt roughly two weeks ago, has become seriously inflamed and requires proper treatment. On top of everything, we now have the joy of visiting Kazakh hospitals in Atyrau and Aral, as we’re not sure whether her illness is due to an infection or, worse still, sepsis. Fortunately, however, it turns out to be the former, and the infusion she receives at the hospital helps to prevent dehydration.
This is actually really likely to happen here. Not only can she not eat or drink properly for a few days, but it’s also rough out here. For hundreds of kilometres, the only things you will see are the highway, camels, a few horses, and some shrubs and trees. Apart from that, it’s just sand, dust and desert. The breadth of the landscape is truly awe-inspiring. Driving straight for several hours, one only overtakes the occasional truck while the landscape slowly transforms from desert to steppes and, further south, to a savanna-type biome.
Svenja is feeling better already when we arrive in Turkistan, our first stop on the ancient Silk Road. The city is famous for its impressive Mausoleum of Khawaja Ahmed Yasawi. Commissioned in 1389 by Timur, it is was built in honor of the famous Turkic poet and Sufi mystic, Khoja Ahmed Yasawi.
Unfortunately, the incubation period of my infection has passed, and by the afternoon, I am struck down with the same symptoms as Svenja. The only difference is that I found it much harder to cope with than her and was basically knocked out for three full days. The second day was the worst day of the trip for me so far. As the next city with a hotel offering air conditioning was too far away for me to reach without being sick, we had to rest for the day under one of the few trees in the savannah-like landscape south of Turkistan. Lying there with what felt like a 39 °C fever while the outside temperature was roughly the same, cooled down only by wet towels and our life-saving ventilator, I really wished I was home in Germany in my cosy bed.
After much whining on my part and an extremely thorough check of our camper at the Kazakh–Uzbek border, we soon found ourselves in Tashkent. Here, we had to run some errands, get a health certificate for Apollo (which we should technically have had at the Uzbek border), go grocery shopping, and so on. However, we also got to rest at the vineyard, where we could park for two nights.
Time is running out, though, and we’re approaching mid-September. We really have to hurry to reach the Pamir Highway before it gets too cold. I’m writing these lines while we’re parked half an hour away from the Uzbek–Tajik border, which we’re planning to cross tomorrow morning.
At this point in our Great Journey, I feel like the title of this blog no longer exactly fits. Realizing that we are now much closer to China than to Georgia, we realize that we are, indeed, quite far from home.